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poptod · 5 years

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What Plagues My Thoughts (Kenny x Reader)

Description: In the span of a year you went from nobody to arguably one of the most well known kids at your school, but there’s one kid that won’t pay attention to you, and his attention is the only one that matters.

Notes: back at it again with my boy Kenny. again this is a ‘gender neutral’ fic with HEAVILY implied male/mlm reader. Quick warning, I do write ‘fag’ in this. I think that, as a bisexual man, it’s probably okay.

No AO3 link this time. A tumblr special I guess lol. anyway i’m sorry, this one is really not great, wrote it while high.

Words before editing: 6.827k

Words after editing: 6.872k (thought this was funny)

You’ve lived a very simple life - a very common, orthodox, and casually stereotypical life. In fact, you were so barren of any type of hobby or distinction from others that you had hardly any friends, up until you were picked random by a group of teenagers a year older than you.

Looking bedraggled and dressed in dark, grunge-esque clothes, they asked you to join their band, Acid Tears, or Hopeless Thought. They hadn’t decided on a name.

“I don’t play any instruments,” you told them curtly, in your usual soft and polite tone. They still pushed for you to join them, and despite your resistance, you reluctantly did. A year later and you were playing bass in a very punk rock band while not being at all punk rock yourself. In that time you grew into yourself - became a real person, achieved a sense of who you were and what your morals were, as well as several hobbies you enjoyed. Even so you were quiet, and the band didn’t exactly boost your popularity considering they didn’t play massive venues, and the venues they did play, you stayed at the back of the stage.

Your drummer was a nice fellow, tall, with red hair and pale skin - his name was Jakob, and he was fine with sharing the back space of the stage with you. ‘It gives the best seat in the show,’ he always said, and in many ways he was right. There were only two other people in the band, both guitarists and both singers, and they were certainly the most energetic. Jane was the exact opposite of her name, and the opposite of the identity her parents gave her. Naturally, she was a blonde, with blue eyes - typically pretty, with Christian parents who were very orthodox. She changed herself into something else over her years in high school, till she had electrifying blue hair, several tattoos, and usually wore colored contacts instead of her prescribed glasses. Her main job was singing and rhythm guitar, though she usually copied John Lennon’s response when asked what she did. Frankie played guitar, sung backup vocals, had short, black hair, and was the object of many peoples’ affections.

After winter break, you scored big - something had changed, either in your band or in the hearts of your listeners, because suddenly more people were showing up. Ticket prices began to go up, till videos of your original music started popping up online. This continued, up until the point where getting a Grammy award wasn’t something all too ridiculous a thought; the thought of which alone terrified you. The biggest jump of this popularity occurred over spring break, so, your band, officially titled Radio Waste, decided to get together to decide what to do if people recognized you.

Frankie had very little trouble with the popularity, always being the most crass and excitable. Jane expressed her own excitement in the situation, while you and Jakob made a pact on how to deal with panic attacks, should they arrive.

The four of you entered your school at once, you dressed in the most normal clothes you could find, and the other three dressed in their usual, full on punk outfits. Students gawked, whispering amongst themselves, and once one asked to get a picture with you, it started. Jane agreed, then came the uproar of ‘if he can have a photo, why can’t we?’

All in all, very horrid. You managed to escape by crawling on your hands and knees, heading to the cafeteria to wait out the crowd. Sitting alone you kept your hand in your hands, glancing up every now and then, till you spotted someone you’d nearly forgotten about, sitting in the corner with his best friend: Kenny.

He’d never noticed you before. Not that he was more popular than you, no - he was on the same level of forgotten nerd that you were, though he actually had interests. Since the sixth grade you’d had a massive, horrible crush on him that you’d done everything in your effort to hide, which wasn’t actually that hard, considering he never spoke to you. How a crush persists that long is beyond you, and beyond Jakob (once you tell him about it an hour later), but it’s there, and it disrupts all your thoughts.

To your luck, he isn’t in any of your classes, which are now heavily disrupted by your presence. Ms. Denvers pulls you out of the classroom halfway through the period and asks what exactly happened to attract all this attention -

“- it’s not like people were like this before the break,” she says, and though it’s a little insulting, her tone indicates she means the best for you.

“I joined an emo band and it got kind of popular,” you mumble, trying to hide behind your barely-there bangs. A recent haircut made sure your eyes were visible in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I see. Is there anything I can do that might help alleviate this problem?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll do my best to ignore it,” you say, and she smiles, pats your shoulder, and leads you back into the classroom. Free seating is given up pretty quickly, and the people who don’t know who you are are seated all around you so as to avoid any serious collision.

It’s like a miracle has struck you and the school - everyone’s so nice to you when lunch comes around, warming up to you and trying to gain your favor. Some are a bit more subtle, just asking for photos, or saying hi. You appreciate that a bit more, it’s an honest approach you can respect. Besides your bandmates you don’t have many friends, if any at all, so you sit with them, and stare at the back of Kenny’s head through the growing crowd.

Someone taps your shoulder, pulling you from your trance, and she asks for a photo with you.

“Me?” You ask, mostly because everyone had ignored you in favor of your more eccentric friends during the lunch period.

“Yeah! You’re, like, my favorite member,” she explains bashfully, and a little dumbstruck you agree, helping her hold the phone steady for a selfie. For the rest of the period, you stare at Kenny when you can, who doesn’t so much as flick a hand in your direction.

You come to the (very wrong) conclusion over the course of the next couple weeks that Kenny doesn’t like guys. That’s fair, you tell yourself, but it still hurts a lot, just as much as if a girl wasn’t interested in your gender. For the most part you’ve got your own sexuality figured out, and you’re very loose with it considering how anxious you usually are with other subjects. Your conclusion doesn’t stop you from dreaming about him, and it doesn’t stop your staring either.

It’s junior year, you think to yourself, still staring at the back of his head through the crowd around you and your band, which still hasn’t worn off. There’s still time, you think, even if there really isn’t that much left, especially contrasted with what you started with.

“So you’ve been doing this since sixth grade?” Jakob asks, eating his home-brought lunch of spaghetti.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I guess so. Never got the courage t’ really do anything about it I guess,” you mumble distantly, forking at the food on your plate.

“You should go online sometime, see the type of stuff people post about you,” he informs with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

“(Y/N), you’re really popular. I mean, not as popular as Jane, cause she’s the lead singer n’ all that, but people really like you. Apparently, bassists are pretty hot,” Frankie informs you, delighted as she shoves her own food in her mouth, also from Jakob’s home - the two of them have been friends since they were babies, and they routinely share their home food, something you didn’t really understand.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s into that,” you sigh, forlorn and dreamy as your gaze stays direct on Kenny and his friend who you’re pretty sure is named Jerry.

“Couldn’t hurt to say hi anyway, become friends? Ever thought of that?” Jane adds sarcastically, never one for drawn-out romance.

You can’t think of a reply, but you know she’s right. They all are. At some point you need to say hello to him, say something, even if you don’t tell him your true feelings. Fears gnaw at the back of your mind constantly, whispering their honey words and promising his hatred with such a sweet voice you can’t help but believe. Again you sigh, and your world seems utterly, irrevocably small.

Even with school going on, Radio Waste finds time to perform at smaller gigs, and Jakob makes the mistake of advertising your evening at a local club. It leads to a massive crowd trying to file its’ way in, pushing and shoving, even though you’re sure most of the people don’t even like your music. A lot of girls (and some boys) keep to your side of the stage, which is Jakob’s as well technically, and they cheer incessantly for you, till you have to turn around to avoid your face blushing bright red.

Before your popularity you weren’t ever bullied. Maybe the passing comment about being gay or a pussy, but you weren’t important or interesting enough to be a popular outlet for bullies. Still, many of the older guys who had or definitely would have called you a fag were there, and they’re cheering, their cameras and phones held up to record your music.

Jane comes up to you and Jakob during a quick interlude, and mutters to the both of you, “posers. Bunch of posers.”

“Clout chasers,” Jakob helpfully adds, and Jane agrees with a quick nod and swig from her water bottle.

The event continues normally, and you scan the crowd trying to find any familiar face, even if you didn’t like them. It’s not until the very end of the night that you see Kenny, shocking you from movement as he exits the crowded club, Jerry-or-whatever-his-name-is at his side. Until Jane closes your mouth you don’t even realize it’s open and, blushing profusely, you head offstage with your friends.

During the weekend you congregate at Jakob’s house. It’s more of a ‘settle’, when it comes to the location - Jane has a practical mansion with a pool and hot tub, but her parents are terribly conservative to the point that even you’re a suspicion since you aren’t dressed like them. Frankie, on the other hand, has incredibly nice parents who deal with pretty much anything, but their house isn’t the greatest. Your own house isn’t in the picture - your parents aren’t even aware of your band involvement, and you’d rather keep it that way.

Over a late breakfast (the group arrived at 8 AM, bright and early, and it’d taken you several hours to organize breakfast) you tell them what you’d seen that night, and explained you were too tired to tell them the whole story the previous night.

“Well, that’s good, right? He knows who you are, that’s a start,” Jakob says, leaning over his cereal to make more direct eye contact with you, a habit of his you dislike greatly. Only then, contemplating his words, do you realize how thankful you are for your friends, who hadn’t even questioned you when you said you had a crush on Kenny. No judgement from any angle - no gay jokes, no popularity jokes, and no jokes about you being a miserable romantic.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you say, feeling rather dumbstruck.

“You always guess. You gotta take what’s yours!” Frankie exclaims, having already had two cups of coffee and feeling her high pretty hard. You chuckle, but it sounds heartless.

“I think… I need a motivation to talk to him. Like, you guys gotta say ‘talk to him or else we’re gonna’…” you trail off there, hoping for some suggestions.

“We’re gonna kick you out of the band,” Jane says, gaining gasps from both you and Jakob.

“Not realistic enough, we could never lose our little baby bassist,” Frankie laughs, ruffling your hair. You mumble your displeasure, waving her hands away and straightening your hair out.

“What about… you have to talk to him or else we’ll expose you as gay to the presses,” Jakob says, and he’s instantly met by the slaps of you, Jane, and Frankie.

“Or we could do the realistic action: you talk to him or we will,” Frankie says, sounding incredibly threatening, a wicked smile coming across her face. You pale - that’s a realistic and very dangerous threat. You didn’t trust yourself all that much, but you certainly didn’t trust Frankie when it came to someone as… skittish? is that the right word? as Kenny.

“Okay! Got it, I’ll talk to him Monday,” you breathe out in a rush, your voice strained as you stare wide eyed at your own breakfast. “Will do.”

Your friends laugh in good nature, patting you on the back and congratulating you on ‘building a spine on fear’. Throughout the rest of the weekend, your deal doesn’t feel so bad - it can’t be that hard, right? Come Monday, you’re feeling sick enough to stay home, and your mother is legitimately worried for your health when you wake up swaying, and your face lands on the plate she sets out on you.

“I need to go t’ school today. I’ll be okay,” you insist, knowing that your absence would give your friends permission to approach Kenny.

Eventually, you make it - albeit a little late - and by lunch period you’re feeling even worse.

“You don’t look so good,” a boy next to you comments, his conversation with Jane interrupted by him noting your sick expression.

“Yeah,” Jakob agrees, his brow furrowing. “You sure you wanna do this?”

The boy has no idea what Jakob is talking about, and resumes his conversation with Jane, while Jakob assures you that ‘if you feel this bad, maybe you shouldn’t do it.’ You shake your head - if you don’t do it now, you’re going to brush off the future threats with your excuse of being sick. Which, you actually are sick, though you know it’s entirely psychosomatic.

Slowly you stand, getting your bearings when the world spins at the change. The crowd makes a small part, and you escape the groupies gathered at your table, trying not to stare at Kenny too much. Frankie noted it to be pretty unsettling, which you had no basis to disagree with.

Time stops, and your heart beats in time with every step you take (which you take very, very slowly) - or maybe it’s beating a hundred times a step. It’s hard to tell, what with the noise level and the other students and the fact that Jerry is now pointing at you, and Kenny’s turning his head and now they’re both looking at you - fuck, they’re looking at you - and you pray to any God that’ll listen that you don’t look creepy.

Swallowing, and trying to get a grasp on the concept of breathing, you make your way over, several students’ eyes watching you as you stand at the head of their small table. Jerry - or whatever his name is - is staring at you, eyes wide and mouth open as he tries to figure out if what’s happening is really happening.

He must be a fan or something, you think nervously to yourself, eyes darting from Kenny to Jerry.

it feels like so long has passed and you’ve said nothing, and you’re just standing there, but only a second of time has actually passed.

“Hi,” you finally get out, sounding surprisingly normal. “I’m.. I’m (Y/N).”

Oh. That went well - no slip ups, no wrong names. You smile to yourself, but the smile ends up on your face, and it’s a charming smile; friendly and warm, and to Kenny and Jerry, they think you’re completely calm, if not relaxed. Your mind blips when you realize you don’t have any excuse for introducing yourself - Jerry saves you.

“I - I’m Larry!” He says, and you internally grimace that you’re going to have to relearn his name, but outside you just shake his hand and sit next to him.

“I’m Kenny,” he says, his voice quieter than you expected, almost dream-like.

“It’s sort of crowded up there,” are the words that come out of your mouth, and you realize your tongue and lips are making decisions you didn’t get to okay. “I prefer the quiet, so I hope it’s alright if I sit with you?”

You look back and forth from Jer - Larry to Kenny, and they look at each other, then you, then agree profusely.

“Yes! Yeah, of course, anything you want,” Larry says, grinning far too cheerily for someone with an American school lunch in front of them.

“We, um,” Kenny shifts in his seat, leaning closer to you, “we saw you this weekend, you were really good.” You smile at him, readying a bashful thank you, before noticing Larry’s glare at him.

“He didn’t like you guys and didn’t wanna listen to your music, so I dragged him to your guys’ show, and now he likes you,” Larry says, and Kenny looks affronted as the truth comes out. But you just laugh, shaking your head.

“That’s alright. I know their songs aren’t for everyone,” you agree, considering you were much like that when you joined. It took a lot of compromises and ear plugs before you began to enjoy the music.

“So, do you, uh, write music? With them? It’s just that you said their songs, and y’know, if -“

“No, no… nothing publishable,” you interrupt him. “My songs aren’t really like theirs,” you admit, gauging Kenny’s reaction while simultaneously trying not to stare at him. He’s fucking gorgeous, shining like a setting sun, like a beauty so long unappreciated that he no longer knows how pretty he is. Considering what he wears and the fashion he carries himself in, he probably doesn’t.

“Not the same genre?” Larry asks.

“Actually, yeah. I uh… I have a hard time writing face paced songs, let’s just say that,” you chuckle, and with the conversation Larry carries, it feels more like an interview rather than the result of an intervention.

“I would love to see some of your songs on an album or two,” Kenny says, his lips in a soft pout as his brow knits together, resting his chin on his palm.

“Maybe in the future,” you mumble with a shy laugh, and you’ve suddenly taken Kenny’s world by storm, though you’d never know, and he wouldn’t ever remember exactly when it was he fell in love with you; but it was just then. A flip switched in both your minds - your dreams realized, his just found, and your thoughts and all your world is surrounded in a hazy golden glow, a loving shade of red emanating from the both of you so strongly that even Larry senses something is up.

It’s not till your fifth house party that semester that he gets to ask your friends what exactly is up.

Over the past couple months you’d gotten to know Kenny a lot better - his passions, hobbies, his personality, his morals, and several of his best stories, many with Larry. Even if he never loved you, you’d be happy with his friendship; being in his presence was a gift previously so rare that you’d forever cherish it. The house party isn’t much different. Kenny is reluctant to go, but you’d asked him, so he went regardless of his own fears. It took some negotiations with his parents, but considering you looked much like a normal teenager, they relented their own worries.

Keeping close to each other you navigated around, him waiting patiently in the corner when fame swept you up and required you play a song on the makeshift stage. The entire time you keep looking for him in the crowd, till you spot him in one of the hardest spots in the song. Nearly missing a note, you don’t even have to look back at your fingers to get back on the right track, your eyes still on Kenny, assuring him you haven’t forgotten him. He waves and smiles giddily at you, and you return a softer version of your own smile.

Eventually you drag yourself off the stage, drifting nearly obstruction-less through the crowd till you reach Kenny again. Talking about the performance and your own energy level, you head over to the drinks, and that’s when Larry makes his move to your band and asks his question.

“Hey uh, guys? I, uh, don’t know if you remember me, um… I’m (Y/N)’s friend?” He introduces himself once the crowd has finally died down a little.

“Oh, yeah!” Jane says, laughing and patting him on the back. “We didn’t forget you, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good. I just, um, I wanted to ask you something? If that’s alright?” He gets nods from the group, so he continues. “Is… there’s no easy way of putting this, but is (Y/N) trying to steal my best friend? Cause Kenny’s spending, like, all his time with (Y/N) and it’s annoying because he’s my only friend, and (Y/N) already has a bunch of friends.”

The band shares looks with each other, several rather sarcastic, before bursting out in laughter.

“No, no,” Jakob says through near tears. “That’s not it at all. (Y/N) is trying to come onto your friend, so no love lost there, if ya know what I mean?” He adds a sucking sound at the end, nudging Larry with his elbow. In turn, Larry scrunches up his face, disgusted.

“Kenny’s not gay, though,” Larry says, thoroughly confused and horrified.

“Huh,” Jane says, and the group goes quiet.

“Yeah, okay,” Frankie says after the long silence, and they break into crude laughter again.

Upstairs, you lead him through the house, hoping to find the room just above the living room. Lucky you know your way around - the girl who owns this house (and the party) is a big fan, and had shown you around the place. The room belongs to her parents, found when you open the door. Much grander than the girls’ room, with a massive bed and closets that go on forever.

“Should we really be here?” Kenny asks, marveling at the wood carved ceiling.

“Can’t hurt more than what they’re all doing to this house,” you say with a shrug, feeling a new sense of comfort in his private presence, something you adored in its’ entirety -alone time with him wasn’t given easily.

“That’s… true. Wanna watch TV?” He asks, jumping up on the giant bed and patting the space beside him. Grinning you run and jump, landing beside him, your legs neatly folded in front of you along side his own legs. A large television sits on the wall opposite the headboard, the remote at Kenny’s side. With a press of a button it’s on, and you’re flicking through channels, deciding which one would be best to watch.

You decide on a sitcom that you’ve seen parts of, clicking through the expansive list of channels, though you don’t know the name or any of the characters. It makes you laugh, at least for the night, till the moon shines bright outside and you’re falling asleep on Kenny’s shoulder.

“You wanna go?” He asks meekly, his voice cracking. You don’t notice, too sleepy to see anything. Instead of responding you hum indistinguishably, mumbling incoherently as you turn and rest more of your weight on him and the pillows behind you. Somewhere in there he hears a small ‘no,’ so he obeys, and turns the volume back up. Not enough to keep you awake, but enough to hear it over the music continuously playing downstairs. A minute passes and you’re snoring softly.

He glances to you, the show forgotten as the topic changes, all his concentration on you. A stray piece of hair falls in front of your eyes, so he pushes it back, admiring the plush of your cheeks, blushing strawberry and squished against his shoulder. For a while, he lets you sleep - the music downstairs is playing a little quieter, a little sweeter, and the fuzzing of the TV is going down. It takes a good hour of him sitting there, too anxious to sleep, before he jostles you awake. From there, you leave, and part ways.

In the morning you show up at Jakob’s house (a Saturday tradition) and they all congratulate you.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily, still rubbing your eyes awake. “What happened?”

“You scored last night!” Jakob says with a joyous laugh, patting you on the back as he leads you to another bowl of brand name cereal.

“You and Kenny got lucky last night, huh?” Frankie says with a smirk, nodding her head slowly.

“What? No, I fell asleep next to him then he woke me up and we both went home. To our separate homes,” you quickly clear the situation up, all too ready to rid of a lie you wish wasn’t false. They groan, clearly disappointed, and go back to their own seats at the table.

“Aren’t you ever gonna do it? It’s been, like, a million years,” Jane groans, resting her cheek on her palm.

“We’re just friends right now. I don’t think he’s into me,” you mumble with a shrug, starting on your cereal. Frankie pretends to fall asleep and snore. The other two just stare, dumbfounded at you, wondering how much denser you could be before dying of brain inactivity.

“Right. Whatever you tell yourself at night,” Frankie sighs, rolling her eyes. You frown, but don’t correct her, and the subject moves onto other topics. Jane tried to hook up with someone last night, but it turned out he was just trying to get pictures of her naked, and Jakob came home with a mild concussion than no one can explain. Frankie had a surprisingly mild evening, only punching one black eye into a guys’ face, and doing only seven shots of expensive vodka that definitely didn’t belong to her.

At lunch one spring-verging-on-summer day Kenny asks you something strange, something he never asked of you before. He asks you to meet him, at midnight, at an address you don’t know. If it were anyone else you would’ve been suspicious, but he looks so innocently nervous, you trust him with a quick nod and a smile. He looks relieved, and takes a seat next to you - Larry sits across from you both, and conversation ensues as normal.

That evening you find a note in your backpack, from Kenny.

For this adventure, you will need: . 1 Guitar . 1 Songbook Good luck on your quest. By the way here’s the address.

Except for the last line, it’s modeled after a shitty video game from the 90’s that the two of you found on the street. The storyline, animation, and overall execution was so horrid the two of you loved it, and you giggled softly at the memory as your fingers ran down the page. Caseless, you swung your guitar strap round your shoulders and set it against your back, wondering what he could be planning as you grabbed your songbook. You hadn’t ever shown him any of your songs, despite his insistence that he’d love them. But, when Kenny asks you to do something, you nearly always do it.

Climbing out your window, you crawl into a nearby tree, shutting the window back up and making your way down. You know the town better than anything else, and you know where the road is - but you’ve never been to the specific address. As you reach the street you grab at your pocket for the number, but Kenny’s standing outside, giving you a small wave. Letting out a breath and a smile, you jog to where he stands, and wait for his answer to what was happening.

“I, uh,” he pulls his hand from behind his back, holding a journal you’ve never seen. “I thought we could show each other some stuff.”

“You write songs?” You ask, gaping. You hadn’t ever learned this about him, and if anything it excited you.

“Yes! Well, no, actually, not really, I uh, I write poems,” he clarifies, clearing his throat and nodding awkwardly.

“That’s amazing. I didn’t know that… are you any good?” You ask, wondering how he could still look as beautiful as he does in the yellow glow of a cheap streetlight.

“I dunno, I’d like to think so, but I’ve… I’ve never really shown anyone before,” he says, his voice suddenly small and hard to hear. In the distance, the creek almost grows louder.

“Like I’ve never shown my songs?” You chuckle softly. “Wanna trade?” You hold up your book, and he nods excitedly.

You walk down to the creek and share in the delights in the only thing unknown about the other. It’s something ceaselessly private and terribly close to the soul, but you make do in the dim starlight, laughing away your insecurities with care. Bugs occasionally buzz around you but mainly keep in the light of the streets, and the peace of the running water fills your heart with an unfamiliar warmth. The only thing you dislike in any fashion is the fact that it’s a little harder to see him, even if he isn’t any less handsome, you like to note the color of his eyes.

It’s a little hard to pinpoint the color, especially in the dark - but you have the memory of them shining a brilliant green in the sunlight, and turning a cold grey when he cries. You match it to each of his emotions, each sparkle, every turn of the lip that you’ve memorized in such a tender way you’d never forget them, never misplaced for a second. When he lets out a breathy laugh your words catch in your throat, and you barely play it off as your own laughter when he looks right back at you with the same recognition of the features on your own face that you’d never bothered to care about.

“It’s amazing,” you note, when the sharing has finished. “Your poetry is.. fantastic. Really.”

“Oh, thanks,” he replies nervously, quietly, and he presses the journal tight to his chest and hugs it. Your notebook isn’t nearly as nice looking as his, but both are worn with the same amount of care. “Your songs are really good too.”

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of what to do next. You didn’t want to part - it was too perfect a night to just leave so suddenly.

He shuffles nervously, so subtly that you don’t notice he’s scooting closer to you till the cold of your bare arm begins to wash away with his warmth.

“W- d- Larry keeps making fun of my hand size,” he fumbles out, looking directly at you while simultaneously looking like he’d rather be looking anywhere else.

“What? Do you have small hands or something?” You ask, looking down at his hands. They look perfectly normal sized, actually. Then you turn to your own - you could even have the same sized hands, you decide, but it’s something you test. You hold up your hand, palm facing him, and he holds up his own. Your fingers touch and you try to ignore every flare in your heart, every spark in your nerves, and you look at the sizes;

You’re barely bigger than him.

“Ha, look at your tiny hands,” you laugh, even if it’s not that amusing, teasing is a wonderful way to get close to someone.

“Hey! You’re barely over my fingertips!” He says, but he joins in your laughter, still looking insulted.

“Kenny,” you chuckle, trying to calm yourself down with slow breaths, “what time is it?”

“Oh, um,” he grabs your wrist, the only one with a watch on it, and reads, “4:57 AM.”

“Shit, that’s so late,” you say, your mood switching to worried mother, and you gather up your guitar and songbook.

“Or early,” Kenny helpfully adds, earning a playful glare from you. He chuckles, holding his own journal in his arms, and the two of you make it as close as you can to your own houses without having to part.

“So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow? At school?” He asks at the crossroads separating the paths to your homes.

“Yeah, of course.”

You’re reluctant to part but you force yourself to with a small wave. When you have to turn down a different road you look back, finding he’s looking back too, and the two of you smile and wave, and truly part for the evening.

I should’ve kissed him, you think to yourself on the way home, groaning. The entirety of the story is spilled the next lunch period, and your friends agree profusely with you

“You’re a fucking idiot, (Y/N),” Jakob tells you. “Can he do literally anything gayer to make you realize he likes you???”

“I know, I know, I know!” You hiss, gripping tight at your hair. Jane untangles the knots round your fingers and takes your hands away from your head, setting them down on the table with a weary sigh.

“I’m worried about you,” she says.

“So am I,” you grumble back.

Still, your little dance goes on till the end of the year, and by then you’re thoroughly sick of it, and Kenny has gotten a lot more free with his affection since coming out. Jane hosts a party while her parents are away (cliche, but she swears she’s the luckiest girl, and she’s right), and the massive house is perfect. The pool out back lends for a sneaky showing of far too much skin on girls and boys alike, and you feel a little anxious standing in the shaded corner.

Kenny comes round the bend of the house with Larry, and they both look far more like they belong. Larry’s talking about something, his hands moving animatedly around as he laughs. Kenny listens intently, till he sees you, and Larry gets easily distracted by the parts of girls he’s never seen before.

“You okay?” He asks, grasping your upper arm. You shrug - probably, you’re fine.

“I’ll be better once the whole pool thing is done,” you tell him, and he doesn’t really understand your insecurity, but he stays with you as a source of comfort. You appreciate him dearly, and for the next several hours you think of how to show that appreciation.

Night swings around, everyone gets into their other clothes, and the party moves inside. Music pounds throughout the house, and deafly you search for a drink to numb yourself for the next several hours before it’d be appropriate to go home. Frankie catches you before anyone else, and convinces you to try your first shots - you’re feeling terribly woozy by three, and she calls you a lightweight.

“I’m light as hell, cause I’ve never gone light, dark…” you mumble to yourself, trying to sort out your jumbled thoughts. “I don’t drunk because I can’t drink, you know?” She laughs, ruffles your hair, and sends you in the direction of Kenny, who she comments on looking very lonely in the kitchen corner. Stumbling through the dancing crowd you make it to him, feeling the wave of drunkenness passing very slowly away.

“Hey, whatcha doin’ alone?” You ask, holding a cup of water in your hand, a precaution Frankie insisted on.

“Oh, Larry’s dancing, I don’t really feel like it,” he says, shrugging and pointing to Larry, who’s caught the eye of some girl who’s probably too drunk to see, but Larry looks just about as drunk as her.

“Whoof. He’s not coming home tonight,” you say, your verbal filter terribly weakened.

“What? What does - ohhh… good for him,” Kenny replies awkwardly, and the two of you stay in the corner watching the crowd.

“Hey, hey… Kenny?” You say, turning to him. Stumbling slightly you loose your balance, and catch the counter, now looking up at him. “Kenny…”

“Yeah?” He asks, his heart beating fast against your hand, which you just realized is pressed to his chest.

“Come here, come… come here,” you say, grabbing his hand and dragging him along till you make it to some sort of broom closet - you’re not sure where you are, but it’s private, and the dull thudding of the music barely reaches you here.

“What’s - what’s wrong?” His voice has tightened even further, the small space forcing your bodies together.

“I… this might just be.. the liquor, or whatever I drank… but fuck I wanna kiss you,” you admit with a numb tongue, not even realizing your confession, and certainly not sober enough to remember it. Kenny freezes - he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol and he’s perfectly coherent in every way, and it’s not helping him at all in this moment. Instead it’s forcing so many possibilities into his mind he can’t keep track of them, only able to focus on your heat and his thumping heart.

“You’re drunk,” is what comes out of his mouth when he can’t speak.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t loved you since fucking sixth grade,” you sigh, wrapping your arms listlessly round his waist and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sixth grade?” He hisses, trying to help you stand, desperately wishing you’d just sober up and tell him straight out what you thought of him.

“Please kiss me,” you murmur, lifting your head and nuzzling up into his jawline. He chokes on his own breath, his hands going numb as he loses coherent thought.

“It’s not right,” he says, tight and high. “Just… let’s get you home, okay?”

“No, no, no! I can’t, I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t wait any longer, just - please, I can’t draw this out anymore, tell me you fuckin’ hate me or something, I don’t care, just… please,” you beg him, sounding on the verge of tears even though they’re not really there. Tired, he sighs, and helps you to look at him. His palm holds your cheek, and it’s the most comforting thing that you might fall asleep in his hold.

“I like you,” he admits. “But you won’t remember this in the morning.”

“Then help me. Ask any of my friends, I’ve been raving about you for ages, I adore you,” you murmur, your lips pressing against the sensitive skin of his neck. He stutters, trying to find a response, before your hand comes up to his cheek. In blurred thought your fingers trace from his cheekbone to his jaw, reaching his lips and tracing their outline with as delicate a touch as you can manage. You straighten yourself out, no longer leaning on his shoulder, and in a trance he follows where you guide him, till your lips move against his. Neither of you can define when you touch, when it starts, or when you begin kissing fierce - you don’t even realize it till he grasps at your hair and you pull at his shirt.

Breathing heavy you pull yourself away, realizing in a sudden sobriety that you’d just kissed him. Kenny, the guy you’d liked for nearly five and a half years, and he’s moving back into you, his chest tight against yours as he kisses the life out of your mind, until you feel so full you could explode with your affection for this one boy.

“I adore you,” you mumble against his lips, playing with his hair as you kiss him over and over again.

“I think I love you,” Kenny practically whimpers, and you return the sentiment so deeply you can’t help but moan his name, your body begging to be closer to him.

In the morning you recall in crystal clear memory the events of the night before. Frankie is the most surprised at this - not just because you got the nerve that you finally kissed him, but also because you remembered it at all. She makes another joke at your expense, but it brings laughter to both you and your friends.

“You know,” Frankie says, stuffing her face with leftover croissants from Jane’s party, which she’d brought from her house to Jakob’s, “I knew it’d end well.”

“How’d you know?” You ask.

“It’s as I said. Bassists are pretty hot.”

You wave her off, chuckling. When you kiss Kenny at the back of the school during lunch, you think on it - maybe she’s right, you think, considering Kenny is way out of my league. But he holds your cheeks in his hands and pulls you closer, holding you tight, out of view of every other person, and you lose all thought of anything but him again - an emotion you can never get enough of, and one you’re lucky to get the rest of your life.

#kenny al bahir x reader #kenny al bahir #war at home #rami malek

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thecursedhellblazer · 5 years

Note

🌟 What is my muse’s sexual/romantic orientation?

Sex & Romance headcanons || Accepting !

(( John is canonically bisexual, perhaps even pansexual or strictly male/female, considering that not all the beings he has slept with are humans, and I write him as such. He’s the kind of guy who hardly says ‘no’ to any kind of sexual experimentation, so I can’t really see him limiting himself because of something as basic as gender. ))

(( I also headcanon him as demiromantic. He has deep trust issues and lots of trauma that prevent him from getting close to people, not to mention a story of failed romantic relationships, which definitely doesn’t help. Add to it his rotten luck and utter belief that he fatefully ends up harming or getting killed all the people he cares for, and you can see why falling in love is something he avoids at all costs. Unfortunately, once someone has managed to break past his defences and fears, he can’t do anything but fall hard for them. And that usually ends in tragedy, for a reason or the other. ))

#* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons::#* Exorcist Demonologist and Master of the Dark Arts * ::about::#legacyof-deathandmadness #theprinceof-gothamcity #(( thank you for the ask :D ))

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spilltheanxietea · 6 years

Text

Authors AU

Ok so we have lots of ideas and AU in the Sanders Sides fandom but now I introduce to you: Authors

Virgil Byrne: Victor Tenebris

Patton Delis: Parker Motus

Logan Klein: Luc Magister

Roman Garcia: Riley Credo

Virgil writes poetry, like really sad poetry, Edgar Allen Poe style my dudes

But it’s hella good poetry, he’s won awards and everything

Patton writes romance novels

His most famous series is a series about two bisexual males who fell in love while working in Tokyo

The series name was “Found You”

Logan writes science fiction novels for teens and young adults

He was inspired by the book ‘A Wrinkle in Time’ as a child and grew up writing and reading science fiction

Roman writes Fantasy books

Mostly set in the medieval era, his book center around Princes and finding true love

All of them hardly ever do public appearances because hey’d rather have a private life than the attention

One day Virgil is in his usual writing spot, The Esspresso Cup, when Roman walks in and sits at his table

Roman invites him to come meet his roommates to see if he wants to live with them

Virgil thinks it’s funny and ends up going with him to a local book store, Pens and Pages

Patton LOVES Virgil the second he lays eyes on him and Logan is highly assumed that both of his roommates seem so intrigued with this man

They spend all night hanging out until Virgil has to leave in the morning

They promise to stay in touch and Virgil dashes for the airport because he has a book singing in Rayleigh the next day

Thomas, his editor, picks him up front he airport and drives him to the venue

The whole time Virgil is gushing about Patton, Logan, and Roman

After the book signing, which was totally uneventful, he goes back house and texts Patton, Roman and Logan

They start talking again in a group chat and Virgil agrees to move in with them

The next week is a big mess of Virgil moving in and the others leaving for reasons(author shit, like book signings, interview, meetings with editors and all that stuff)

Flash forward to December, they’re all living together and are extremely close

None of them know they’re living with other authors

Their company, TS Prints, has them all writing a book together

(They thought it’d be a great publicity thing, having their four most successful authors writing together)

Virgil leaves for a book convention and is surprised when the others show up together wanting to meet Victor Tenebris

He panics and runs out of the room, saying that he feels sick

He gets home before the others and acts like nothing happened

They all leave at the same time to go to the grand reveal of their book at the San Diego Comic Con

“Victor Tenbris” Virgil walks on stage

“Riley Credo” Roman walks on stage and Virgil gasps

“Parker Motus” Patton walks on and both Virgil and Roman squeak

“Luc Magister” Logan walks on and the other three scream, like full on

They lol start talking over each other and somehow, not saying names,

ROMAN

It gets out that they’re all living with each other

The crowd go wild and they all panic and run off stage

The start talking to each other back stage wihtout realizing that their mics are still on

“THIS IS WHERE YOU GUYS ALWAYS DISAPPRAR TO?”

“I COULD SAY THE SAME FOR YOU ROMAN”

“SHUT UP VIRGIL”

The crowd is laughing and trying not to let them know that they’re hearing everything

Eventually after the shouting turns to whispering Patton walks back on stage

“Well, this has even eventful. The panel with continue tomorrow at the same time, if you can’t make it yoou’ll be given a free tape of the entire thing. Have a nice day everyone”

He smiles and runs back behind the curtain

Front hat day forward they’re inseperatable

One is always with another one, none of them have solo signings anymore

THE END

If you have any more ideas for this AU or any questions, feel free to message me or drop by and send something in my ask box

#sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders sides #sanders sides logan #ts logan #ts patton #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #au: author #authors au #my au #writing #writing ideas #have fun with this!!!

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aikainkauna · 6 years

Text

Fic mehm

This was shortish, so might as well post it here. Snurched from the lovely @trelobita .

-What is your total word count on AO3?

-1 421 808. That little?!? I thought I would've gone past the 2 million mark a long time ago. What with Connie whipping me on the way he does.

-How often do you write?

-When the right mood/inspiration comes, and when I'm healthy enough (both mentally and physically) to be in writing condition. Which is not often enough; I hate it when I do want to write, but brain fog and/or physical fatigue mean I can't keep my brain going or my body upright. That's mostly for fiction, though. I can type bloggity waffle like this, and could just about proofread a sex toy review today despite it being a brainfog/tireded day. The deadline for the review was today, so I did it under duress and must've left something out or fucked up some grammar as consequence. Finnish conjugations are hell when your memory is shot to pieces; English is much easier to write because you don't have to remember how to conjugate a word to denote it's in the past tense for a plural with a conditional towards place A, signifying inclusion. No, I'm not joking. Sauvallanikinkos? ("Also with my wand, too, maybe?")

-Do you have a routine for writing?

-My body isn't good with routines and schedules, so no. The only pattern I have is to try and get 1000 words done at least and then to email myself the latest draft after I've finished writing.

-What are your favourite tropes?

-Have you got a month? (This question foolishly asked about your favourite kinks and tropes and pairing types all in the same question, BTW, so I split it up into three questions, because... c'mon.)

Tropes:

-Flawed characters who are still somehow understandable and appealing; not the typical Asshole Protagonist or antihero thing so much but more of an... well, I guess it's just good characterisation I prefer, in the end. Not that kind of squickily obvious macho power fantasy sold as "grittiness" just for the sake of being an asshole (funnily enough, that kind of crap usually comes from the kinds of people who have too much privilege in the first place). So, yeah, good characterisation that's still got some shreds of humanity left is my jam.

-Telepathic lovers. Exactly because it hurts so much when the person who's supposed to love you the most and to understand you the best doesn't, and vice versa. So that's a big RL trauma and squick I prefer to fix, because in fic, I CAN.

-That's a major one, actually. Fix-its not so much on a plot level but on a human level. Especially sexism/gender bullshit-breaking fixes. Fix-its get a bad rap, but that kind of thing, just like the bashing of romance and fanfic, sets off my "ah, this wouldn't be the devaluing of something considered empathic and female/feminine again, now would it?" alarms.

-This overlaps with the pairing thingy, but the Depraved Bisexual is my favourite character type to write. All the Connies, Tennant!Peter Vincent, Captain Renault, Zainab, Laura, etc... YES.

-Male character gives up some masculine privilege he doesn't fancy anyway for the sake of love and empathy/female character gives up stereotypical female things she doesn't fancy anyway in order to be herself and free herself as much as she can from society's chains. Give Torsten all the pwetty dwezzez he wants and for Falcon!Yassamin to remain childfree, dammit!

-Man cuddles and medicates woman during her period and actually empathises/feels how awful it is. As I was saying about the fix-its...

-Funny banter, even if I can't write it as hilariously as I'd want to.

Favourite kinks?

-Poetic prose and Romanticism. It's word porn or nothing, baby.

-Historical detail, accuracy preferred but depends on how the story wants to go (the Barmakids DON'T get butchered horribly by Harun al-Rashid in 803, TYVM).

-Anal! That's almost too obvious to mention.

-Androgynous, genderbending, sex-bending, femme men. Why do you think Connie is the love of my life?

-Lots of arousal-drippage.

-Some way for the bottom to see themselves being banged. Mirrors or telepathy or magic or video camera projecting it before their eyes or whatever. Unfff.

-Orgasms. Always orgasms to complete satisfaction. Orgasm denying or writing it badly or so vaguely that characters/readers can't get any catharsis/release for the arousal is a huge squick. That's a hard limit. Fuck characters who tease and don't let someone get off.

-Psychological/emotional depth. That's such a no-brainer it shouldn't even be necessary to mention (although in these days, it seems to be, because apparently wanting that is now a repressed sexual minority instead of normal human, especially female, sexuality. Oh, fuck off). Yeah, these memes do bring out the pet peeves about internalised misogyny, don't they? Especially the sort that manifests itself in sputter-inducing ignorance. Even my medieval characters and their somewhat dated and essentialist ideas of sex and gender are ahead of Tumblr in the very basics, FFS.

-BDSM that's based very much on extreme care and healing, the sort that uses the intense sexual activities/sensory overload as a kind of way to heal the sub's anxieties and to help the sub let go, achieve catharsis and release. And for the top's love to be the guiding, ravishing, then healing and comforting force that contains the sub and the sub's anxieties in a fiercely loving and protective way and absolutely, so that not a drop spills over. So, yep, BDSM as therapy is my kink in both RL and in fic. Not so much a desire to humiliate or to be humiliated, but on the contrary, to value and to honour the other half. The top finds strength and validation through being the healer, through their power being able to do something good (instead of tearing someone down and having power over them through that). Yes, I know that's not everyone's idea of BDSM, but it's mine and that's what you'll get if it's a healthy relationship I'm trying to portray. (The Barrings and Zainab and Fadl don't have the healthiest ideas of sex, anyhow; Jaffar/Pwinzezz usually do.)

And I'm leaving out so many. You only have to look at my Ao3 pages to see the recurring themes:p

Favourite pairing types?

-Experienced Depraved Bisexual Character/Less Experienced and/or Repressed Character, GIMMIE. Fucking love that shit.

-Similar: Older, More Experienced Man/Younger, Horny Woman.

-Horny couple, usually M/F, seduce someone into a threesome. The Rosesverse and Devilry are full of this, so might as well admit it.

-Do you have a favourite fic of yours?

-I do have a soft spot for the first two fics in the Falconverse. As if you didn't all know that already! They do have some noticeable flaws here and there, especially the first one (I still insist that weird lube choice was HIS and not mine; I do know better and yelled at him at the time), but they still contain my deepest and most profound writing both erotically (and I mean that in the widest sense of the word, encompassing all things Love) and spiritually and character-wise. Defy Not The Stars also turned out better than I expected, considering I had never attempted so much plot and a traditional historical romance novel before. But I guess that Roses, what with its length, has allowed me to explore more aspects of the characters and their lives than anything else I've written. And of course, considering Devilry is my most-read saga ever, I do have a soft spot for that pile-up of a car crash. If only for the sheer intensity of the ride; I was just thinking yesterday how it really was aghori sadhana done through writing. Meditating in a graveyard is for wimps; try spending months in Torsten Barring's fragrant boypussy.

-Your fic with the most kudos?

To no one's surprise, Because The World Belongs To The Devil, at 234 kudos.

-Anything you don’t like about your writing?

-I suck at pacing sometimes. The sex scenes tend to run overlong if I write them in several sessions instead of just one go. It's not that the characters want to try different sex acts and shag more than once during a night, but more that the tension is spread out unevenly ("JFC, why did they change position again? I want them to just fucking come already, damnit!") This is obviously a result of how many things *I* see in my mind's eye during a wank; it's always more of a clipshow of different sex acts and pairings and orientations than one straightforward scenario. I'll be more mindful of that in the future and have been watching out for it in the past few fics already; I don't think the shags in The Guardians of Samarkand overran, for example.

-And sometimes my kinks get too obvious and repetitive for me, too, the way any porn gets tedious and repetitive. But on the other hand, I know very well that fanfic *is* about us imposing our kinks on our darlings, no matter how much we may go on about our dedication to characterisation and such. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: what's key is to get away with your kinks *but* in such a way that they can also engage the reader and that they become interesting and enjoyable not just for you, but for the readers, too. And you need good characterisation for that, and it's a really delicate balance to juggle your kinks and believable characterisation.

-Something you *do* like about your writing?

-I can write immersively and deeply and engage all the senses (sight, touch, scent...) in rich detail, as well as go deeply and profoundly into the emotions. And write some fucking hot porn ;) Those are the things I've had praise for, at least. Maybe my spiritual bits aren't as relatable or something, because people hardly ever remark on those (interestingly, my mum is the only one to have taken up those bits! But I skim over the sex scenes when I read the fics to her, so she only gets the gen). Or then it's the fact that most of the time it's Thief of Bagdad fic, and thus in an Islamic context, and most readers aren't familiar enough with, say, Sufism, to feel like they're qualified to comment without making arses out of themselves. But of course I like my spiritual bits; I'm an ex-religions major!

This had a taggity thing at the end, but I hate doing those because it always puts pressure on them even if you say they don't have to (come, now. The pressure is there, the moment you mention someone by name). I don't own the meme or you, so, as always: do what thou wilt.

#writing #meme #meta #personal #i guess #ao3 #fic

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abdicatedarchive · 3 years

Text

discussion boards || juliette and daisy

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: freshens healthy restaurant // early march 2021.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: juliette x daisy.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: none.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒: TBD

Sitting at a table, Daisy was somewhat regretting her decision to leave her homework until so late. While she was very close to being done, it was due in class in a few hours and she would really rather just be sitting in her room eating popcorn and watching Bridgerton or some other trashy-yet-addicting Netflix show. She had decided that the best way to get herself through the final push was to eat at the same time (she was extremely food-motivated), thus her working away at her paper while stuffing food in her mouth. Looking up, she saw a classmate looking around, presumably for a place to start. “You can sit here if you want,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Unless you chew loudly. We’re humans, not cows.”

Juliette had been very selective about where she went on campus to avoid potentially running into anyone she didn't want to see. That list was extraordinarily long ever since she found out that her ex was here, she was doing her best to avoid all of her friends as well. Best to keep things secret. Sadly, there was no better dining option than to go to freshens, because neither of them usually would be caught dead there. Juliette was a junk food fiend. She saw her classmate, a girl she had noted was very loud, and the first words that came out of the other girl's mouth just affirmed that for Juliette. "Luckily for you, I am a very silent chewer" she said softly with a smile as she sat down across from her. Juliette pulled out her book out of instinct, she was very used to eating alone after last semester when she made so few friends that she had to transfer here. "You finishing up that paper?" Juliette asked as she put the lid on her salad to mix it up.

She thought that she recognized the girl from class. Jules or Jane or something like that. She also thought that she had heard some gossip about her, but she heard so much gossip and did not have the attention span to keep track of who was in what trouble or who was sleeping with who’s girlfriend. “Good. Then you can sit.” Daisy said, taking another sip of her smoothie as the girl took a seat, before asking if she was finishing her paper. “Yeah. It is a stupid paper anyway, but whatever. It will get done.” She eyed the book that Juliette had in her hands. “What are you, a book nerd?” She asked. It did not look like the kind of book that got assigned for class.

"A little bit yeah, this is What we talk about when we talk about love by Raymond Carver" said Juliette as she looked at the dog eared beat up copy in front of her. Juliette opened up the mixed salad and took a bite before talking again. "It's a comfort read, if you've ever seen 2012's Stuck in Love, it's mentioned in there a lot" the girl added, not sure if the fun facts were really going to help her. She also definitely could have left out the release date, but it was natural to her. Juliette knew if Daisy had a problem with that, she would definitely say something.

Listening as the girl rattled off the information on the book she was reading, Daisy just stared at her. Definitely the book nerd type, but in an almost endearing way. Not the ‘I read books, therefore, I am smarter than you’ type. Also the awkward type. Which could mean that she could be the useful type. “Never seen it,” Daisy said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Are you the Encyclopedia Brown of books in general, or is it just books about love?”

Juliette smiled and looked down a little before looking back up, the other girl was a good kind of intimidating. "Mostly books about love, and then a healthy blend of queer and feminist lit" said the girl as she took a sip of her water. Being at college meant she could just say whatever she wanted without judgement, and it was a new but captivating feeling. That she could just be herself. Every conversation was a new level of freedom. "Do you read for fun? It's kind of hard when there's so much stuff assigned all the time" she asked.

Daisy nodded. Yep. Definitely the good kind of nerd. The girl was also obviously one of those sweet ones that were still somewhat shocked by whatever freedoms university life allowed them. It was adorable. “Does that include Virginia Woolf, or is that too hipster for you?” She asked, and then shrugged at the girl’s question. “I like reading. I’m in the English literature department, so I’d have picked the wrong department if I didn’t like to read.” Then, she sighed. “I do miss me a good trashy romance novel, though. They never seem to assign them.”

"I enjoy Virginia Woolf from time to time, I try to get a few different view points just for my own education" said Juliette with a little shrug. She was happy to hear that she had met a fellow English major, the more people in her department that she got to know meant that getting help if she needed it later would be more easy access. Juliette laughed at the girl's joke, and began to nod her head at the trashy romance novel comment, "I don't know why they don't. I think that the whole class would pay a lot more attention to their discussion board posts" Juliette replied, another giggle escaping her mouth.

Daisy liked this girl. Or, at the very least she thought she could tolerate her, which in Daisy speak meant she liked her. “I agree. If they gave us interesting reading material, people would be way more likely to read the books instead of just skipping to an online summary.” She did not understand why some people chose to be English majors - you were literally signing up to read tons and tons of books, both boring and entertaining, as an English major. Still, she enjoyed a good, entertaining book. Especially if it was a trashy, entertaining book. “They should assign Bridgerton, and then let us watch the Netflix show as extra credit.”

Juliette had to laugh at the girl's Bridgerton comment, it was right up her alley. She had enjoyed Bridgerton, she had binged it pretty quickly. The only thing it was missing was more gay energy, that always got Juliette really into a show. But she did love a period style piece, "yeah there is so much to unpack with that show from costumes to sex education" she added, "the discussion posts would be wild, I can hardly imagine after what is it the fourth episode or the sixth? whenever the sex montages happened, specifically the one with taylor swift in the background" she rambled, "I feel like that would be a thought provoking essay."

“I agree. I get gay vibes from Benedict and Eloise.” She held up her fork and closed her eyes. “I speak their gayness into existence. Though I am biased because the lady who plays Eloise is super pretty. But then again, I would happily make out with anyone from the cast.” A little off-topic, but Daisy was never one for staying on topic. “Oh, honey, that would be so fun. Take ‘Wildest Dreams’ to a whole new level and a whole new meaning.”

"Oh for sure, potential for asexuality for Eloise as well" said Juliette, wondering where the next seasons would take all the characters. "She is absolutely stunning" she agreed. "The men are something, but I'm much more partial to the ladies in the cast" said Juliette, she was still having trouble naming her sexuality directly. It was a reflex from the before times. "I honestly think that if there is going to be sex on screen that there should be a Taylor Swift mandate." Juliette felt strongly about this, even though it was a joke. It would just add layers every time.

“Yes. I would love Eloise to be asexual homoromantic. It would be the cherry on top. Sadly, this is Netflix we are talking about so I have my doubts.” She crinkled her nose at the thought but digressed at Juliette’s next comment. “Partial to the ladies, eh? I don’t blame you at all. Ladies have a certain…” she outlined an hourglass shape in the air with her hands, “charm to them, don’t they? Sadly, I have a weakness for the weaker sex - males, that is - as well as women.” She sighed dramatically, as though liking men as well was a great flaw in her personality. “What other songs would you want? If you could direct, what are your top three Taylor Swift sex scene songs?”

"Netflix never really ... hits things on the nose. It must be in the contract that they miss the mark" she replied with a shrug. In a perfect world things would be different. She giggled at the hand motions, "a weakness for men? Most of my friends suffer from the same condition. I heard dating men is terminal" she said, playfully frowning before breaking into a smile. She had to think for a second about what Taylor Swift songs would be good for a montage, "Hmmmm, I would say for a good enemies to lovers moment ... I did something bad. Enchanted for those like ... meet cute instant connections. Ooooh, and Afterglow for missed connections or exes" said Juliette, not completely confident in her answers but proud that she could pick something so quickly.

“This is also very true. They should hire very invested college students to do the planning for them. Preferably ones that eat at Freshens and make fun of their poor creative choices.” She shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Yes, unfortunately despite my best efforts, I can’t shake the bi in bisexual. Men are just… ugh. There is something about them.” She sighed. “It will definitely be terminal.” She considered Juliette’s song choices and nodded her approval. “I approve. Netflix should definitely hire you to pick their soundtracks.”

A laugh fell from her lips, "I promise to not bi erase you, I will remember your terminal condition known as an affinity for men." Most of Juliette's friends were somewhere on the spectrum of sexuality, Gabrielle being on the far side of that. As straight as they come. She wondered about Jonah sometimes, but she never wanted to pry. "That would be an amazing job, maybe I should change majors and go into media and mass communications" she said, a smile forming on her face as she took a sip of her water. "If you could have a job that had nothing to do with your major and was super niche, what would it be?" she asked.

“I appreciate that. You’re a good egg. I think I am going to keep you,” Daisy said, pointing her fork at Juliette again. “Though I would appreciate you not mentioning my affinity for men in front of menfolk. It tends to go to their… heads.” She smirked. “Maybe you should change majors. It isn’t too late, but I am sure that you are… adequate… at whatever it is you do.” Her question gave Daisy pause. “If I could have a super niche job that had nothing to do with my major… hmmm… maybe someone who makes stage costumes? The really funky ones you see on the West End and Broadway. That would be fun.”

She smiled at the idea of being kept, it wasn't the first time she had heard something like that. One time she was told that someone wanted to pack her up in their pocket and take her everywhere with them. It was a strange compliment, but it was very sweet. "Bold of you to assume I would ever speak to a man" Juliette replied, laughing a little to herself. Jonah was a special exception, and Chase when he was also in his own dorm room. "I'm a journalism major, but I think it stems from a deep need to get out of town that I had in high school? So I'm not sure if it's actually something I want to do" said Juliette. She had a lot of time to change her major, so she was very comfortable where she was at. Jules still needed to adjust to this new college before she could really hunker down, a vague english major was where she was at right now. She listened when the girl was talking about costumes, "Well if you ever want to make that more of a reality, my best friends Gabrielle and Marina both know how to make clothes and costumes. Very talented ladies, they could make pretty much anything. Gabrielle does more contemporary stuff, but she's got the chops for funky costumes, and Marina does more period/fantasy clothing" she explained.

#juliettexdaisy #threads || daisy and juliette #daisy and juliette || 001 #juliette: thread

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cambionverse · 7 years

Text

HAPPY PRIDE!

In honor of pride month, here are some canonically queer characters from our verse!

Jesse Turner - Demisexual, Panromantic

Jesse doesn’t really think of his sexuality in terms of labels (who has time when you’re running for your life?), but his heart will throw itself into battle for anyone with a pretty smile long before he thinks about sexy touching. By sheer chance, he’s fallen for more guys than any other gender, so he probably thinks of himself as “gay but I like girls too??” when he even thinks of it at all. Please someone hug this man.

Ben Braeden - Bisexual

Ben, bless him, probably has the most healthy relationship to his sexuality of anyone on this list. No one in his immediate family or friend group at school gave him any flack about it when he came out, partially because Katie had already paved the way by being so aggressively out once she left her mom’s place. Ben happily dated and/or hooked up with about 90% of his friend group in high school without much pushback, and because he never learned to feel insecure about that part of himself, his reaction to homophobia and biphobia is usually just an annoyed eyeroll rather than the strong reaction one might get out of Katie. The only important people in his life who he hasn’t officially told are Sam and Dean (though, especially after meeting Jesse, there’s no way they don’t suspect).

Claire Novak - Aromantic, Queer

Like Jesse, Claire doesn’t think much of trying to find a good word for her own sexuality. She utterly fails to comprehend the difference between being close friends with someone and being in love with them—if no sex is involved, it’s friendship; if you want to bone them, it’s romance. But Claire mostly hates feelings, so she has anonymous sexual encounters with dudes that she could not care less about whenever she needs to scratch that itch. She also tries to find guys who are down for her preferred activity of getting someone else off in quasi-sadistic (though ofc still consensual) ways while mostly keeping her own clothes on and not being touched. In Claire’s mind, sex is something you do to someone, not with someone, and she wants to be the one doing it. She feels a little strange when she thinks of being that ruthless in bed with the few people she is both physically attracted to and genuinely does let herself care about. For what it’s worth, Claire is interested in girls too, but feels equally weird trying to use her usual hookup persona with them—there are plenty she’s happy to eyeball, but she’s never acted on that attraction and doesn’t intend to.

Katie Doolittle - Lesbian

Katie is a big ol’ lesbian, and she wants everyone to know it. Katie has struggled with homophobia more than anyone else in our verse—her mom and dad divorced because her dad realized he was gay, and the little basic human respect Annette afforded for queer people flew right out the window. She thought of Katie as one kind of monster or another for as long as Katie lived with her. After Katie left home, she has viciously, spitefully lived life as out & proud as humanly possible. Every year in June she dyes the ends of her hair rainbow for Pride Month, and then chops it off when it starts fading so she can wear her trusty Wonder Woman costume for Halloween (she does not have the patience or cash to maintain it year-round). Katie’s biggest rule for herself going forward is that she’s not giving the time of day to any more homophobes, which is why she tries at all times to make it obvious at a glance that she’s a lesbian—thus the rainbow Superman-L tattoo on her wrist. Hopefully, if people immediately know what she is, a bad reaction will let her know what they are too. (She absolutely refuses to admit this was inspired by Ben’s monster-detecting bracelet.)

Emily Jorgeson - Gay

Emily doesn’t have a problem with the word “lesbian” or it being applied to her, she just tends to prefer “gay” for everyday conversation. She kept a lot of things to herself while living with her aunt and uncle in Indiana, her attraction to other girls among them, and they were happy enough to ignore any overly-friendly gestures Emily made to her girl friends and go right on saying things like “someday when you have a husband” and “when you meet the right boy.” It didn’t bother her as much as it should have—they never actually tried to get her to marry or date anyone she wasn’t interested in, and she liked life where she was, so why rock the boat? But after nearly being sacrificed with Dean, she sometimes wondered if it wasn’t a factor in deciding who in their little town got left on the chopping block. In college, she ran into a coven of real witches who were really gay and really didn’t care what other people thought about it and they helped her embrace that side of herself in a more positive way.

Hunter Birch - Genderfluid

“Genderfluid” might seem like an obvious choice for a shapeshifter, but Hunter actually went through a long period of trying to shift only into “boy” bodies, and insisted on being called “he” even when they didn’t get the form they wanted. Aaron was determined from the beginning to let Hunter decide for themself as much as they could—he wouldn’t question whatever choices they made about their gender or appearance or what they wanted to be called (they even named themself). So it took him awhile to notice the little longing looks they gave dresses and hairbows and dolls and anything else they thought of as girly. Finally, he caught Hunter in the Halloween aisle in a dollar store reverently stroking the fabric of a pink ballerina costume, and it all came out. Aaron bought it for them, and later they had a long talk about how it was okay to be a girl some days, too, if they wanted to be, even though Aaron was a boy (and Hunter wanted to be like him to make them more like a “real” family). Now Aaron calls Hunter “she” on girl days and “he” on boy ones, and “they” in general or when he can’t check with them first. The gender Hunter picks doesn’t always match up with the sex they might be assigned based on their body, and for all Aaron knows they might wind up sticking with one gender someday and they might not—he loves them regardless of what face or gender they have.

Ben Collins - Asexual & Aromantic

Because he’s never romantically dated anybody, Ben has definitely heard concerns from well-meaning loved ones that worry his life lacks intimacy, or connections with others. Thankfully, to the people that matter most (Haley and Tommy), he only had to explain it once for them to get the idea and stop worry-nagging him. (After all, you can hardly want for intimacy when one of your jobs involves touching souls.) One of his favorite jokes is telling anyone who asks that they aren’t his type.

Billie - Asexual & Aromantic

Not every reaper is aro/ace, but Billie is here to do her job and very little outside of it catches her interest. While she has some affection for her fellow reapers and the souls she sees to the other side, her closest friend is Ben Collins, however much she likes to pretend otherwise. Billie has been bound to him for the rest of his natural life, so luckily they make a good pair, but their relationship is strictly platonic. Her favorite joke is how Ben, specifically, is not her type.

Meg - Trans

Assigned male when she was born in New Babylon, Meg joined her father and brother in secret arcane rites that got their whole family burned at the stake before she’d even turned twenty. Millennia in Hell has been…unpleasant, especially during the old days, but the one upside to Meg becoming a demon is that now she can choose to wear whatever kind of body she wants. After centuries of being nameless, she chose the name Margaret for herself, after the medieval Catholic saint of expectant mothers—it has always been Meg’s secret wish to bear a child. When given the option, she always chooses hosts that are named Margaret or some variation thereof, and when the plans were being made for a demon to give birth to Lucifer’s cambion, she jumped at the chance.

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stephicness · 8 years

Note

Do you have any sort of sexuality headcanons for some of the characters in FFXV (i.e, Noct is bi, Gladio is straight, Ardyn is pan, etc etc)?

So I’m all for that bisexuality/pansexuality. Love everywhere! Love, love, love. Usually when I write, I always like to be open to these ideas~ But, if you’re looking for an analytic standpoint of character’s orientations, then I can try giving you what I think about them all. Of course, I’m still all for writing them in many different ways, but here’s some thoughts I have for you, dear anon! I’ll only do a small handful of characters, but if you have specific people you’re curious about, don’t hesitate to ask me about them!

Noctis Lucis Caelum – It seems obvious that this kid is probably straight since he has a fondness of women throughout the game. He’s socially awkward around Aranea at points when she flirts with him in dialogue, embarrassed when Iris tries to show him affections, and he has a strong affection towards his childhood sweetheart Lunafreya. Noctis just has a charm with the ladies. However, I wouldn’t rule him out as bi-curious or adventuring, particularly when it comes to his best friend, Prompto. At least, from my time in high school and college, people always find themselves curious about that one friend that they’re really close with, and so I wouldn’t put it past Noctis to be curious about the idea too (especially when I get to Prompto and headcanons about him). So, despite him having a more of an attraction to women, I wouldn’t doubt that he pondered whether or not his feels for Prompto were romantic or not. Regardless of if he does harbor feelings for Luna or Prompto, I imagine him as a demisexual – meaning he won’t engage in any sexual actions until he’s established a strong bond with them. This probably means that gender really doesn’t factor into it all in the end, but what matters the most is whether or not he can connect to the person enough to engage in sexual activities.

Prompto Argentum – He’s more adventurous than Noctis, that’s for sure. But more open-minded about his romantic and sexual endeavors because, let’s face it, he’s a hopeless romantic. You could tell him he looks really nice that day, and he probably would have a small fantasy about what it would be like to go on a date with you. A boy who was starved of social interactions and friendship until he met Noctis, after all, would be one who often finds it hard to socialize without making people feel awkward. But to him, it doesn’t matter if you’re male or female or neither or both. To him, what matters is the soul a person has. He knows that more than anything – that it isn’t what you are biologically. It’s what you are in your heart and soul, and that’s what he finds most attractive in a person. Thus, he falls under the pansexual spectrum. He’s not as emotionally attached to someone, however, when it comes to sex. Unlike Noctis, he would be alright with the idea of a fling or casual sex. Because to him, it would be how he and his partner could help build their relationship. They go out together, have some laughs, go at it, and have some more laughs during and after it. He thinks of it in a really innocent manner – perhaps a bit too innocently. But ultimately, he’s just happy knowing that there’s someone that would potentially love him, regardless of his past and history.

Ignis Scientia – Ignis is a peculiar fellow, because he can honestly go two ways in my mindset: as bisexual or as asexual. I can picture him a bisexual because, for him, sex and romance shouldn’t have any real boundaries based on gender, especially when sex can be used as part of a strategy. As proper of a man as Ignis is, I wouldn’t put it past him to have slept with someone to sway their opinion for one reason or another. Gender to him has no real significance because being able to take pleasure in it all is ultimately what matters. A small bit of bliss before he resumes back to his routine of being the prince’s royal advisor. A simple enough break. But at the same time, I wouldn’t pass off the idea of him being asexual in general. Gray-A, I believe they call it, because he does find people attractive and he enjoys being able to admire the view, but he won’t be the one to act upon his sexual desires because A) he’s too busy to do so, B) he doesn’t really feel an urge to pursue them, or C) his high standards for what the ‘mood’ is keeps him from doing anything with his partner. He’s open to either gender when he does actually go about his sexual endeavors, but he’s rarely one to act of them – if he ever does actually act on them.

Gladiolus Amicitia – This one, to me, is obvious from the get-go that he’s pretty straight. As much as I adore the idea of him being shipped with the other chocobros, he has a strong attraction to women that is apparent through most of the series. He flirts partially with the waitress in Hammerhead, he asks about what the women look like when arriving in Lestallum, he decided to help out Holly at the power plant, etc. Perhaps I push it when I say it, but it seems that Gladio has a higher fondness towards women than he does men. But like Noctis, he does find himself wondering sometimes. If a guy flirts with him, he’d obviously be a bit evasive about the advances, but he also would be genuinely curious to what was so amazing about guys. Prompto tried explaining at one point, but he was hardly one to explain because he’s a socially awkward bean. Ignis explained it to Gladio once before too. And although Gladio was a bit confused still, he respects people’s decisions to do as they wish. He might not prefer men, but good for others if they did!

Ardyn Izunia – You mentioned before, dear anon, of Ardyn being pansexual, and I agree with this… To an extent. You see, he falls in almost the same logic as Ignis in this instance: sex is a tool. It doesn’t matter what gender you are. If he can use it by a means to manipulate and sway you, he won’t hesitate to crawl into bed with whomever. Sex can be used as a weapon against his foes, and so he may as well add it to his arsenal of manipulation. He’s smooth and charming enough to get people to go for him too, women, men, others in-between, etc. Two-thousand years of learning how to play the perfect game of wits means he’s just as experienced in seduction as well. People always were so easy to toy with. But I will say, I wouldn’t put it past him for having more of a preference towards men. Men are more of a challenge, and they don’t run the risk of getting pregnant and all, so that’s less of a lineage he leaves behind in a world he wants to be forgotten in. That, and with the way he creeps on Prompto and practically flirts with Noctis too? Yeah… Just a thought though.

Ravus Nox Fleuret – A man married to his work, but I wouldn’t classify him as an asexual because of it (though the thought did cross my mind). He’s dedicated to his sister and his duty to Tenebrae, but it probably leaves him frustrated and wanting to release his stress one way or another. Sex, to him, is probably one of the releases, though he’s not compulsive or extremely active as probably Gladio or Ardyn are. And yet, in my mind, I imagine him as being a rather closeted homosexual man. He doesn’t broadcast his sexual endeavors or his sexuality – especially when people like Ardyn would just use it against him in the long run, so he keeps his relations discreet, perhaps being more drawn to men. I’m not quite sure how to explain it, but despite me liking to have diversity in sexuality for characters, Ravus is one that I typically fall back on and classify as homosexual. Guess just a strange vibe that he gives off? Moment I saw him, it’s been a little bit harder to picture him with a female companion, but I still try my best to think of the possibilities!

#asks #dear anon #final fantasy xv #ffxv #headcanons #stephic writings #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #ardyn izunia #ravus nox fleuret #fun headcanons to answer!#definitely a good one to ponder on #thanks anon!

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thornstocutyouwith · 6 years

Text

Character Sheet DnD: Claerwen

“I am aware. That I am an asshole!! Just like you!”

- Falling in Reverse, Just Like You

General Information

Name: Claerwen Tancred Hailstrum Name Meaning: Claerwen (Clear light) Tancred(Well Thought Advice) Hailstrum(Brute) Pronunciation: Cla-er-wen T-ah-n-cred Hail-struhm Other Names: The Bard, Sexy, Hot Titles: Our Bard, Hot Elf, Clarence’s ‘Friend’ (They aren’t friends, the people just include him as such because he’s been with the party, against his own will more or less)

Sex: Male Gender: Male Age: 100

Birth Date: Unknown ( They haven’t really been a very elaborate D&D group, they are much more I WANT TO FIGHT and less. THE WORLD NEEDS TO HAVE SENSE OF REALISM, like a fucking calendar, at the very least. lol) Birth Place: Feywilds, City/Kingdom in a Forest, somewhere, far, far, far away from where the story takes place.

Species: Elf Occupation: Bard, Archivist(Shhhh), Instrument Maker, Performer, Ninja (NINJA BARD!)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Astrological Sign: Aquarius (Not that it fucking matters? lol) Blood Type: B

Appearance

Main Appearance: Elf ears, very pretty/Handsome, Well endowed ( apparently says the person that looked at his junk while he was meditating,11-12Inches. lol), Sandy blonde hair, Turquoise blue eyes, Hair length/Style(Shorter side for the moment, trying to grow it out, and kept in a ponytail for the most part), Brand between shoulder blades.

Alternative Appearances:

Wardrobe: Studded Armor, What he wears under the armor, what else he wears

Accessories: Backpack full of stuff Musical Instruments: Violin Piercings: Left ear Hygiene: Very well kept and clean Makeup: Maybe a little here or there, but not usually. At least when he’s not performing. Perfume / Cologne: Flowery Scent: Leaves or Grass, Bars, Rain Tattoos:

Health

Diet: Fruits or fish mostly Exercise: Sometimes exercises Fitness: Yes Posture: Stands with purpose usually, straight backed. Though often enough, he relaxes and his body leans or slacks into a more comfortable and casual stance.

Abnormalities: n/a Aids: n/a Allergies: n/a Diseases: n/a Illnesses: n/a Disorders: n/a Broken Bones: n/a Reason for Health: Most likely childhood trauma, and further trauma’s after.

Voice

Accent / Dialect: Some what Snobbish, Aristocratic accent Voice: Tenor Laughter: Gentle Impediments: Sometimes stutters or gets his tongue tied

Psychology

Languages: Common, Elvish, Orc, Draconic, Sylvian, Gnoll, Gnome, Goblin, Personality: Honest, Offhand, Independent, Asocial, Daring, Egocentric, Aloof, Studious, Unceremonious, Calm, Reflective, Attractive, Persuasive, Free Thinking, Insightful, Introvert, Innovative, Perceptive, Future-focused, Curious, Logical, Imaginative, Crafty, Theoretical, Enthusiastic, Objective, Introspective, Impersonal, Inventive, Assertive, Flexible, Carefree, Gregarious, Intellectual, Entrepreneurial, Complex, Non-conforming, Fearless, Efficient, Exciting,

Philosophy

Outlook on Life: Mostly just wants to explore places, find out the history of places and things, and perhaps get some coin or prize while doing so. Philosophy / Motto: To test the limits of pretty much everything you hold dear to you, lol. To learn all that he can.

Character

Quirks: Mutterer, Awkward, Taps foot when he’s bored, Tinkering with things,

Hobbies: Reading, Writing, Lyricism, Playing Instrument, Acting, Play writing, Music Composition, Games, Storytelling, Cooking, Adventuring, Closet Hobbies: Sewing, Singing, Dancing, Voices ( for performances, duh), Drawing, Painting, Journalism, Puppetry, Guilty Pleasures: Inciting Chaos among the group.

Habits: n/a Nervous Tics: Tugs on his ears, hums under his breath, goes quiet and becomes slightly more goofy. Soft Spots: Creatures, especially those he can make useful to him.

Most Prized Possession: His Violin of course, but generally things he’s earned himself since becoming free. Collections: 18 mole like creatures and 5 Ankheg Eggs,

Regrets: Nothing Secrets: Many Darkest Secret: He is a former(Kidnapped) House servant to a wealthy family. Pet Peeves: Currently not much, though he dislikes a certain dwarf for being annoying, and he’s not very fond of the Barbarian’s world wide notoriety, or the apparent vastness of the barbarian’s popularity anyway.

Phobias: N/a

Preferences

Likes: Writing in his journal, playing his violin, singing, fruit, sunflower seeds, fish, learning new things, exploring the world, music, books, swimming, games, performing, looting, animals, quiet alone time, getting stuff for basically free, traveling, new things, Dislikes: Helena pointing out that he is ‘the bard’ or ‘our bard’ as if he were more so property rather than someone they basically have kidnapped at this point, and hardly even think about paying him for his wonderful music, lol. Clarance’s fame. The Dwarf always getting drunk, and saying that his music sucks, the baby golden dragon trying to eat his properties and other comments made that Claerwen just hasn’t cared for. Being surrounded by mostly strangers, despite Helena saying he ‘knows them’, Claerwen has no idea who these people are, other than their names and their professions and slight inclinations.

Favorites: N/A Least Favorites: N/A

Combat

Ability: Mostly good, very good. As long as it’s not close up and the rolls are good, lol Position: Mostly defensive, but can be offensive, if the situation calls for it. Weapon: Throwing Spear ( Since he was kidnapped and lost his real weapons, and the group gave him it), Slingshot ( Kidnapped so the group gave him it), Element: Fire Martial Arts: He’s a Ninja, pfft. He’s got a foot in all of them, pretty much. Strengths: Stealth, Bardic stuff, Ninja stuff Weaknesses: Close combat(debatable, given the situation) Restrictions: Being weighted down,

Home, Work, and Education

Abode: He doesn’t live anywhere, right now, technically, though he does have a rather large estate back in his home city.

Pets: 18 Vols and 5 Ankheg eggs, and soon a T-Rex Helena offered him as a bargaining chip for selling an adult Ankheg he wanted. Roommates: Technically, none. But seeing as they are all going to be sleeping in a cart, wouldn’t that make them roommates...

Sleep Patterns: [Self explanatory] Eating Habits: [Self explanatory]

Social

Mother: Ceinwen, Half Moon Elf/ 23% Blood Elf/17% High Elf, 5% Cosmic Elf, 3% Tel-quessir 2% SilverBlood Elf, Father: Llywelyn, 16% Wood Elf/ 15% Star Elf/ 10% Draco-Elf/ 9% Crystal Elf/ 9% Dark Elf/ 8%Moon Elf/ 7% High Elf/ 7% Grey Elf/ 6% Eladrin Elf, 5% Aquatic Elf/ 4%Wild Elf/ 4% Elf Guardians: Staff at his Estate home from childhood. Siblings: Older Brother: Neifion/ Older Sister: Briallen/ Older Brother: Eirwen Children: None Best Friend: None Close Friends: None Friends: Maybe Helena, a little bit, lol, Team: Helena, Artex, Hyna, Norah, Clarence, Some Necromancer, some Dwarf, some others he has no clue, lol Acquaintances: Helena Rivals: No one Enemies: No one

Romance

First Love: None Love Interests: None Significant Other: None Sexual and Romantic Orientation(s): Bisexual/Grey-Romantic

Reactions

(Optional; but generally, this is how they react to what they’re feeling)

Angry: Anxious: Conflicted: Criticized: Depressed: Embarrassed: Excited: Frightened: Guilty: Happy: Humiliated: Nervous: Offended: Praised: Rejected: Sad: Stressed: Thoughtful:

Biography

Background:

Claerwen was born into an Elven Family (Left ambiguous for several reasons) where he grew up until he reached childhood. Claerwen had grown to become curious and knowledgeable as a child. He often enjoyed his time away from others his own age to go explore his hunger for knowledge. Though this did not always leave him with much safety or supervision. His parents never quite figured out just how far their son would go in his quests for knowledge. It seemed that as long as he came home they had no reason to worry about his long and mysterious disappearances. And so he was allowed to continue with what they had surely must have thought was just a peculiar young elf growing up as he pleased.

That was until the day of the incident, the day he would never return home, at least not for a long time. Over the years Clearwen’s curiosity had grown perhaps slightly out of control as he had begun to venture out from the safety of their protected lands. Claerwen would take secret trips to go explore the places he would hear others( those who were assigned to leave the safety of their land )speak of treasures and other wonders outside of the barrier. It had been the fall season where he lived when Claerwen had heard the story of one cave just outside the safe zone. He had worked up the courage to go outside the zone.

So, the young elf child set out he spent the next few days preparing for his trip. Thinking that it would be easy and brief, he had packed up some of the essentials he would have needed, something to drink, something to snack on, perhaps some first aid just in case. But outside of the beasts that had roamed around their city, Claerwen had never heard many stories, if any of all, of any foreigners being found in close proximity, if at all, to their city. So he did not factor in any of those, they seemed the least likely to need thinking about.

At the beginning of his little adventure things had been going well, his curiosity had definitely been stroked. He kept himself alert through his trek to the cave that had supposedly been full of treasure. But eventually his childish nature had started to get the better of him and he began to drop his alertness in favor of goofing around. As he traveled, he came across a few threatening beasts that he had managed to get away from and kept working his way toward the cave.

Once at the cave, and with some hesitation, he began to poke his way into the cave. As he walked through it his initial nervous feelings about it had begun to dwindle, he started to feel much more safe than he had outside of the cave, with the creatures in the forest. Enjoying himself over all as he made his way through the cave.

He would visit the caves every day then, exploring them most of the day. But had unfortunately never came across anything of any special importance to him. It was for the most part, just a cave. Which had after sometime began to make Claerwen bored after several days. Weeks would pass though, Claerwen would keep going back to the cave, studying it and exploring it, mostly just wanting to find every dead end possible. He was unaware that his unauthorized trips back and forth between his Kingdom and the caves outside of it, would trigger something horrible. But how was he to know what fate had in store for him.

One night after he had returned home from his lasted trek through the woods he created his father at dinner who pointed out that he had a leave stuck in his hair. As his family ate his mother had started to ask him where he was going, and that she heard rumors about his leaving the safety of their kingdom from the locals. Which Claerwen obviously told her weren’t true. He didn’t know if his parents had believed him or not. But they said nothing else as his siblings had begun to talk about their own lives, soon Claerwen joined in talking of the things he had learned and what he wished to do when he was older.

As his mother came in to say goodnight to him she walked over, placing a kiss on his forehead before making a face at him as she looked around. It was easy to tell that Claerwen was her child, of course he was also his fathers. But Claerwen didn’t have the dark black hair his father had, he didn’t have the same eye color, or many features. Sleepily he watched as she got up making sure he was secure, then looked around, as if there was some hidden danger that might have been waiting just inside the closet on the other side of the room or just outside the window. It was perhaps nothing more than just a motherly thing to do. Little did she know, that the danger was real, and very close.

Later on that night, others, outsiders, began to infiltrate the kingdom, silently picking their way through guards and others still awake. Snatching up the vulnerable and defenseless children they came across. Some elves were murdered, others only knocked unconscious, depending on what they did to the intruder, and the intruders own inclinations.

Being at an estate Claerwen’s family had been one of those that were the safest in the city. But even still, Claerwen and his family had know clue what had been heading their way. As it would later be clear that those who were invading the city had done their research, had planned almost to an exact T one what they would be doing, and how they would be doing it in a sufficient manner. The alarms in the city had not been going off, no one knew what was going on in the dwellings next door, much less their own homes, until it was too late. In no time the invaders had made their way toward Claerwen’s Family’s Estate. He had still been resting in his bed as a shadowy figure crept through the window to his room, and quietly made their way toward him.

Claerwen had been a heavy sleeper as a child, so by the time he heard anything, the slightest creak as the intruders weight neared the side of his bed, it had been too late. They had snatched the small elf boy up into their arms, pulling him from his bed as he tried futilely to escape the intruders grasp, digging his fingernails into their arms and trying to bite them, only to be carried away like a useless ragdoll. Being carried out into the hallway by the male who had captured him

It had been in those moments that he could make out the noise of someone fighting from another room. He could also hear distant voices shouting and other noises from the city around them, which had been waking up and been aware of the threat that had come to their kingdom. Claerwen took that moment as the intruder paused, apparently taking notice of the severity of the moment, that he screamed out toward where the fighting was going on. Following that the agonized gasp of someone who had just been cut down could be heard. Quickly followed by the door the intruder and Claerwen had been in front of, jerking open, violently.

In the doorway had stood Claerwen’s mother, and she did not look at all very happy about her child being in the hands of some stranger. Her clothes had been splattered in quite a bit of blood. Blood had dripped from the sword she was hold. As she made a stance to attack, the blood was flicked onto the floor and wall before she charged forward, shouting for the intruder to let her son go. She had been about to strike when an arrow, show with great precision struck her, sending Claerwen’s mother to the ground. Looking over then Claerwen watched as the other intruder made their way over and told their friend to get out with the child as they had to start clearing out of the area. Before Clearwen could hear anything more, however, things had begun to go fuzzy for him and he blacked out.

The next thing Claerwen remembers is waking up in a cart that had been full of other kidnapped elf children and for the next hour the invaders had managed to keep the cart hidden and anyone who got close to it that wasn’t part of the foreign invaders was brutally killed by those who had stayed behind to guard the cart. After all, they were going to make a lot of money of their prisoners. After that night, Claerwen of course did not see his family again. It took more than an hour for the intruders to finally relent and retreat from the city entirely, gathering up a few more children. Which took about an hour at most. Once it seemed they were ready to leave the prisoners had been given something to put them to sleep through most of the trip they would be taking.That way they wouldn’t know their way back home if they ever escaped. And so they could easily be recaptured.

They had traveled over many, many, many days then. Getting farther and farther from him and from being saved. A full month had gone by before the prisoners would come to realize what they were captured for, to be sold in auctions at a black market. Some children did not make the trip, but Claerwen had. After watching countless others be sold off to wealthy households it was soon to be Claerwen’s turn as well. He was sold far more quickly than any of his other counterparts. As Claerwen had a better pedigree than most of those other children had. He was clearly one of the only children that had been taken from what was clearly a wealthy family. And had been worth a lot more than most other family buy that day could even afford.

Once he had been sold the children were branded with images that, if anything happened to the family’s property, they could easily identify it. Claerwen had been branded just like the others, between his shoulder blades and sent to live with the family that had purchased him.

Over then ext few decades of Claerwen’s life he had been taught the ways of a bard, or at least his already adept musical ability had been improved upon then, during his years of servitude to the family that bought him. Being surrounded by books as well, Claerwen was able to continue to feed his appetite for knowledge, when allowed the chance to, during breaks and such things like that when he was not expressly needed other than for something pretty to look at. However, despite all of this Claerwen was regularly beaten and abused while under the care of the family that bought him. Originally because of his defiance, and after that was apparently beaten from him, just because they had felt like it.

On one fateful day, however, decades after being bought at the black market, Claerwen and the young master had been out riding on their horse. Claerwen had been made to walk beside him, or keep up with whatever they were doing at the time, on foot. While he walked behind the teenager, tired from the last five hours of having to chase the teen around on their horse or be yelled at and smacked with their riding crop. Which he had just then, been hit with across his left arm, that he was trying to tend to as well as continue to keep up with the young master ( This is a person SOMEONE keeps telling me Claerwen was horrible to, by the way, lol).

As they had continued on, despite the obvious build up of storm clouds, a crack of lightning shot down from the sky close by which had ended up scaring the holy hell out of the Master’s horse, sending it into a fit. It bucked before taking off toward some trees. Claerwen, for one, not being able to really do anything, had just watched, and secondly, didn’t want to do anything anyway, to help the young master’s horse from bucking. He was more about preserving himself at that moment in time. Rather than risk getting fucking kicked by a horse in the head, or the chest, or anywhere else.

So the horse sped off, right for the trees and the young masters head managed to catch a low hanging tree branch as the horse dashed under it. The masters head snapped back in an ugly way before their body fell from the horse into a heap just under the tree branch. The horse then took off into the woods nearby neighing loudly. Claerwen had stared in apathy at the far off heap of surely dead teenage boy in the distance before turning and, upon realizing there was literally nothing he could to about it, he took off.

Clearwen had taken that moment of absolutely no one else being there to break free of his servitude and try and find his family, finally, after all the years being held captive, being watched and unable to leave, the lightning had given him this rare opportunity and Claerwen took it. Even as the rain began to pour down from the darkened skies he continued to trek through the mud and cold, trying to get as far away as he possibly could from those horrible people and start his own life, like he should have. As a one hundred year old, this was the year when in his home city he would be considered an adult, he would have been going through the Rites. But instead, for him, and many of the other kidnapped elven children from that night, would be passed over. Perhaps this was fates way of saying to him that this would be his Rite to adulthood.

Either way Claerwen knew he wouldn’t stop moving until he was completely free to live his life, to be himself, finally. Taking only the things he had been wearing and had on him at that time, a violin included, he had managed to start forging a path toward at least having a better life than the one of servitude that had been waiting for him. He managed to work and get things for himself in the years that fallowed his escape and in time put all but the memories of his time as a slave behind him. It was during his years of freedom that he also happened to be asked to join a clan of local ninja’s in one of the places he had traveled to, in order to earn money by playing violin. At that time he did not entirely take the clan up on their offer, but told them that he would come back when he was ready to learn. They happily accepted this and told them they would be waiting for him.

Some time later Claerwen eventually did take the ninja clan up on that offer, and has been learning to be a ninja when he has the time to.

Earliest Memory: [Self explanatory] Fondest Memory: [Self explanatory] Worst Memory: [Self explanatory]

Miscellaneous

ENTP-A

Not a Virgin

Skilled in Sex (lol)

Can become emotionally cold because of his past

Choloric-Phlegmatic Blend

Chaotic Neutral(Alt Neutral)

Enneagram: 7/7w8, The Enthusiast, The Challenger

Aquarius

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor/ House Blends: Ravendor

Ilvermorny: Horned Serpent

Aura: Green

Patronous: Hawk or Swan

Divergency: Dauntless, Candor, Erudite

Prefers Dogs over Cats

Likes the color Red

Dislikes the color Yellow

Natural Disaster: Earthquake

Favorite Color is Blue

Elements(Extra): Steel, Light, Thunder, Dark

Balanced Brain

#CTH #DnDStuff #CTHBio #Bios #Skies #So you can read it lol

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