#hair care service .don't consider skin care

[naturalssalonsblog]

Bridal Makeup Essentials: Choosing the Right Beauty Salon for Your Big Day

Your wedding day is one of the most important days of your life, and naturally, you want everything to be perfect. From the dress to the decor, every detail is carefully planned to create an unforgettable experience. Among these details, bridal makeup plays a crucial role in ensuring that you look your best as you walk down the aisle. Choosing the right beauty salon for your bridal makeup is essential to achieving the flawless look you desire. If you’re searching for the best bridal makeup services, particularly in Sahakara Nagar, Tumkur, or Madanapalle, Naturals Salon stands out as a premier choice.

The Importance of Bridal Makeup

Bridal makeup is not just about applying products; it’s about enhancing your natural beauty and ensuring that you feel confident on your big day. The right makeup can highlight your best features, complement your wedding outfit, and ensure that you look stunning in your wedding photos. Therefore, choosing a skilled makeup artist and a reputable salon is crucial.

Why Naturals Salon is the Best Choice for Bridal Makeup in Sahakara Nagar

When it comes to bridal makeup, the experience and expertise of the makeup artist are paramount. Naturals Salon in Sahakara Nagar is renowned for its professional and personalized bridal makeup services. Here’s why it stands out:

Experienced Makeup Artists: Naturals Salon boasts a team of highly skilled bridal makeup artists who have extensive experience in creating a wide range of bridal looks. Whether you’re looking for a traditional style or something more contemporary, the artists at Naturals Salon can tailor their services to meet your needs.

Customized Bridal Packages: Understanding that every bride is unique, Naturals Salon offers customized bridal makeup packages. These packages are designed to suit different preferences, skin types, and wedding themes, ensuring that each bride gets the look she desires.

Quality Products: The salon uses high-quality, professional-grade makeup products that are long-lasting and suitable for all skin types. This ensures that your makeup stays flawless throughout the wedding ceremony and reception.

Pre-Wedding Consultation: Naturals Salon offers pre-wedding consultations to discuss your preferences and trial sessions to finalize the perfect look. This allows you to have peace of mind, knowing exactly how you will look on your wedding day.

Convenient Location: Located in Sahakara Nagar, Naturals Salon is easily accessible for residents in and around the area, making it a convenient choice for brides-to-be.

Naturals Salon: The Best Bridal Makeup Service in Tumkur

If you’re planning a wedding in Tumkur and searching for the best bridal makeup service, look no further than Naturals Salon. The salon has earned a stellar reputation for delivering exceptional bridal makeup services that cater to the specific needs of brides in the region.

Personalized Attention: Naturals Salon in Tumkur ensures that every bride receives personalized attention. From the initial consultation to the final makeup application, the team is dedicated to making sure that you are completely satisfied with your look.

Expertise in Diverse Bridal Looks: The makeup artists at Naturals Salon are proficient in creating a variety of bridal looks, ranging from classic to modern. Whether you envision a traditional Indian bridal look or something more contemporary, they have the expertise to bring your vision to life.

Timely Service: On your wedding day, time is of the essence. The team at Naturals Salon in Tumkur is known for their punctuality and efficiency, ensuring that you are ready on time and stress-free.

Specialized Skin Care: Naturals Salon also offers specialized skin care treatments leading up to the wedding day. These treatments help to prep your skin, ensuring a smooth and radiant complexion that will enhance the overall makeup look.

Affordable Pricing: While providing top-notch bridal makeup services, Naturals Salon also offers competitive pricing, making it an excellent choice for brides who want quality without breaking the bank.

Bridal Makeup in Madanapalle: Why Naturals Salon is the Top Choice

Madanapalle, a town known for its cultural richness, is also home to one of the best bridal makeup services at Naturals Salon. Here’s why this salon is the go-to choice for brides in the area:

Cultural Sensitivity: Naturals Salon in Madanapalle is well-versed in the cultural nuances of the region. The makeup artists are adept at creating bridal looks that align with traditional customs while incorporating modern makeup techniques.

Bridal Hair Styling: In addition to makeup, Naturals Salon offers expert bridal hair styling services. Whether you prefer a classic updo or a more elaborate style, the salon’s hair stylists can create the perfect look to complement your makeup.

Bridal Party Packages: Naturals Salon in Madanapalle offers packages not just for the bride, but also for the bridal party. This ensures that everyone looks cohesive and camera-ready on the big day.

Professionalism and Dedication: The team at Naturals Salon in Madanapalle is known for their professionalism and dedication to their clients. They work closely with you to ensure that your bridal makeup is exactly what you envisioned.

Positive Reviews: The salon has garnered numerous positive reviews from satisfied brides who have praised the quality of service, the friendly staff, and the exceptional results.

How to Choose the Right Bridal Makeup Salon

Choosing the right bridal makeup salon can be a daunting task, but by keeping a few key factors in mind, you can make the process easier:

Research and Reviews: Start by researching salons in your area and reading reviews from past clients. Positive reviews are a good indicator of consistent service and satisfied customers.

Portfolio: Look at the salon’s portfolio to see examples of their work. This will give you an idea of the makeup artists’ skill level and their ability to create different bridal looks.

Consultation and Trials: Schedule a consultation with the salon to discuss your preferences and ask about trial sessions. A trial session allows you to see how the makeup will look on your wedding day and make any necessary adjustments.

Budget: Determine your budget and find a salon that offers quality services within your price range. While it’s important not to skimp on your bridal makeup, many salons, like Naturals, offer packages that provide excellent value for money.

Location and Convenience: Choose a salon that is conveniently located, either near your home or your wedding venue. This will make it easier to coordinate on the day of the wedding.

Comfort Level: Finally, choose a salon where you feel comfortable and confident in the makeup artist’s abilities. Your wedding day is stressful enough; working with a team that makes you feel at ease is essential.

Conclusion

Your wedding day is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and choosing the right bridal makeup salon is crucial to ensuring that you look and feel your best. Naturals Salon, with its branches in Sahakara Nagar, Tumkur, and Madanapalle, offers exceptional bridal makeup services that cater to a diverse range of preferences and styles. With their experienced makeup artists, personalized packages, and commitment to quality, Naturals Salon is undoubtedly the best choice for brides seeking the perfect bridal makeup look. Whether you’re in Sahakara Nagar, Tumkur, or Madanapalle, Naturals Salon is ready to make your big day truly special.

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - black leg sanji

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's a treat for you! 💗 this will be a new fic series, and who else would i write for first but my dearly beloved sanji 😭 (i cant remember if i used this picture before but i literally love it so much i cant be bothered 😭😭 his hair just looks so fluffy and soft 😭😭😭😭😭)

a/n: guys... i know i said i wasn't going to do the whole songs paired with fics thing.... but like..... in honor of a new ethel cain single being out tomorrow i feel like i absolutely must pair this fic with this song 😭😭😭

nothing but fluff here 💗

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when he comforts you:

-sanji's first instinct when it comes to comforting you, is to pull you tight into his arms, your face buried into his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist, rubbing soft circles into the smalls of your back, and the other hand placed on your head, gently stroking your hair. it's his secret to getting you to take deeper breaths because he knows you'll be utterly consumed in the scent of his cologne, now wrapped around you like a warm blanket

-he'll softly murmur in your ear phrases like ; "i'm right here, mon amour", "everything will be okay", "i'll stay here for as long as you like mon cheri. i'm not going anywhere."

-when the two of you can't be alone, he'll always have a reassuring hand on you, whether his hand is on your thigh with his thumb rubbing slow circles into your skin or placed on your back. or when he's trying to be more subtle he'll hold pinky's with you.... he'll always find some way to touch you, its nice to have a physical reminder that he's right there and not going anywhere

-when you don't really want to talk, he'll softly hum... the same way he does when he's concentrated on the meal he's preparing, or when he's just content and happy.... a song only the two of you know, since you're the only one ever close enough to him to hear it

-this man gives literally the best advice.. however, he only does so when you explicitly ask for it. his advice and perspective is really pragmatic and understanding, he always considers every possible point of view and takes lots of time to consider your dilemma before he offers an opinion

-if you're sick, injured, or on your period; he's catering to your every need. comfort foods and cravings are made without you even mentioning them (he totally tracks your whole cycle to stay ahead of the game, even if your irregular he somehow always knows) cuddles are frequent and necessary, he's on top of meds always giving them to you at the same time, making sure you take them, even when you say you don't need them or want them, his soft gentle voice is oozing with affection as the words "you'll feel better if you take them, mon amour". you're never alone, ever. when he can't be in your room or in bed with you, he'll carry you to the kitchen, make you wrap your legs around his waist and put arms around his neck, and he'll hold you while he cooks, taking extra care to make sure he's not bumping you against the counters. sanji's 100% an acts of service type man, so he'll do anything and everything, and no amount of protesting will change that.

when he needs comforting:

-he finds a great deal of comfort in cuddling, just the physical closeness of you; your warmth, your soft perfume, everything about you really eases his mind. sanji prefers cuddling while facing each other, he'll bury his face in the crook of your neck with your hand gently tangled into his soft blonde locks. his hair is his ultimate reminder of safety and comfort, so with your fingers softly playing and intertwined in it, he can breathe a bit easier.

-my baby absolutely melts with words of affirmation, this man thrives off of praise, so when he's feeling down gentle reminders of everything you love about him, how much you love him, how amazing he is, helps him remember exactly how lucky he is to have you

-quality time is an absolute must. the last thing sanji wants when he's upset is to be alone, so even if he doesn't really want to talk, just having you by his side is more than enough. the absolute farthest you could be away from him is 10 feet, anything more than that, and he'll just come and get you, wrapping his arms around one of yours and gently cling to you

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a/n: god, i love sanji more than life itself 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[tikvin]

Eshra's greetings and some banter

-39—-20(negative)

"Out with it"

(sigh) "What?"

(tongue click) "And here I thought the day was going well"

-19—20(neutral)

(slight smile) "Yes?"

"You wish to chat?"

"You have my attention"

21—40(medium)

"I am listening"

"You have something to say, yes?"

"How can I help, my dear?"

41—100 (high, exceptional)

"What is it, my dear?"

"Your secrets are safe with me"

"You look like you have a secret to share with me"

"What bothers you, friend?"

Flirty:

"Well-well, haven't my day just got so much better"

"My attention is all yours, dear."

"Ah, I do like the sound of your voice, you know"

Romanced:

(leaning in slightly with a soft smile) "Hmmm?"

"My, oh my, remembered of little ol' me?"

"Got tired admiring me form afar, love?"

(raising an eyebrow with sly smile, she looks expectantly)

Romanced (rejected Bhaal) Will include all of regular romanced lines and additional:

"Since I stopped hearing the song of your blood, your voice got so much clearer, my love"

"To be free, to be loved, what more could one ask for? Well, to hear your lovely voice right about now, I suppose"

"My joy, my heart, what troubles you?"

"My darling, I am at your service" (bows jokingly)

Romanced (lost to Orin)

(looks a little lost) "Ah—? Oh. Yes. What is it?"

(in solemn tone) "Speak to me"

(agitated) "What!?" (snaps out of it) "No— not like that— I'm sorry, haven't got much sleep lately. Did you want something?"

Romanced (accepted Bhaal)

"My most beloved victim"

"Oh how I crave to crawl under your very skin"

"I hear the song your blood sings for me so clear. Beautiful."

Banters:

Considering Eshra is more observing than prying type, I don't think she would initiate them much herself. Except maybe environmental ones and a bit of flirting here and there. I have just a few so far.

(Shadowheart/Eshra)

— "Do you dye your hair, Eshra?"

— "Hm? What makes you think so?"

— "I mean, isn't drow hair usually white or blond?"

— "Why, thank you for calling me special, my dear"

— "That's not— Nevermind"

(Eshra/Wyll/Gale. Underdark, after Eshra's amnesia revealed. Requires fighting at least 2 drow enemies, Minthara included)

— "Say, is drow hierarchy really as ruthless and strict as it is described in tomes about Underdark??" (G)

— "Gale, dear, I have no idea. Although the drow we encountered so far left only a bad taste in my mouth"

— "Afraid that you too did something cruel in your past?" (W)

— "Concerned I was a snobbish insufferable brat"

(Eshra/Tav Temple of Jergal or any temple ruins)

— "This feels familiar... somehow"

— "Hm? Were you a church worker?"

— "Of sorts, I think..."

(Lae'Zel/Karlach/Eshra on the elevator thingy on the way to monastery)

— "What a sight. We should stop for a nice little lunch, take it all in." (K)

— "Is the worm gnawing at your grey matter? We must find a crèche and be purified." (L)

— "Lae'Zel is right... A lunch after being freed from our wrigglers would be much sweeter, don't you think?" (E)

— "Chk. You're both are way too frivolous." (L)

(Minthara/Eshra shadow cursed land. Requires Eshra being recruited before meeting Minthara in act1)

— "So, my suspicions were correct."

— (sigh) "What are you talking about?"

— "The moment we met. I thought something isn't right about you. You look like a drow, but you're most certainly not one. So what are you, iblith?"

— "Careful, Minthara, don't make me regret not slitting your throat in that goblin camp, the moment our dear leader looked away."

— "You would've died in attempt."

That it for now! Will post more banters some time later.

[evilmoldywizard]

After the events of Deadpool and Wolverine HCs where they just live together

- they do a lot of accidentally romantic and like considered “couple” things but just don't really pay it much mind or notice, they just sort of somehow fell into patterns of it

- they share a bed of course and Logan will complain about it and hate it, but he will literally lie down and steal the blankets even through there's like… a couch… like literally in the next room….

- Logan puts in two stupid little hair curlers for his kitty cat ears to go to bed

- they're pretty much the “elegant silk robe” and “who goes there” nightshirt duo

- Logan is fucking awful with anxiety around sleeping next to anyone because he frequently wakes up with his claws out from night terrors, and it's insane to him the first time it happens around wade when he wakes up and stabs him in the side, he immediately goes to is to panic but wade just sort of wakes up like, “peanut I'm too tired for this, maybe later” and will roll over with Logan’s claws still in his side, and just like scratch at it like it itches. Logan wont admit it but he felt a ping of odd security that he hadn't felt for a while. Like he had of course stabbed him and obviously knew he recovered easily, its just the first time he realized he wouldn't need to worry about this with Wade

- wade is godawful at cooking and Logan eats it every time but complains. He will still eat the entire somehow remarkably charred remains of the pasta wade microwaved though.

- Logan sort of just takes up being a stay at home house husband since wade goes back to contract killing to pay the bills. Also Logan doesn't have like any proof or documentation of him existing so jobs are a little difficult. But also just him in a customer service job would be insane. Yea he will like clean up and take care of marypuppins all day and he also can't cook for shit, but he can at least microwave some leftovers.

- he's really weirded out by living a sort of mundane life but he oddly likes it a lot, it's something he hasn't felt since before he got the adamantium Implanted, he even sort of starts to stop drinking. He should go straight to therapy still though, but he's still a bit of a closed book emotionally.

- he's also gotten closer to Laura, and the other Xmen, he doesn't quite feel in place with them since he still feels like they are expecting someone else when they look at him, but he likes being around Laura since they of course are so similar in abilities.

- I like the idea of him taking up silly little hobbies like knitting and woodworking or pottery just to do something, especially woodworking since he can sort of use his claws ag times, at first, but eventually doesn't since saws and tools don't require the pain of coming out of his skin to use.

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Disturbed Rest

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

Something sinister had happened within the island.

You have known John as deeply as you know yourself, and he knows you as deeply as he knows himself. Memories mixed together, his memories became yours and yours became his. Some bits are missing, either because you both can't remember yourself or because of some divine intervention.

You see John in the faces of nearly every kind, older men you see; be it strangers, professors, or even cleaning services back at your college, and John sees you in the faces of every innocent girl he had ever seen in his life, and often in the face of his right-hand woman, Kore. He feared one day he will forget Kore's face with how often yours were replacing hers. 

You don't know how long you and John had been stuck in this loop of memories. Has it been days, months, or years? You wondered what happened to your body with John's after the ship had sunken. You can't remember past anything the moment your body had hit the water. Are you declared dead or missing? If dead, did they enact a search for you and the others? Did they manage to bring you home and give you a place to rest?

"What kind of graves do you think we would have?"

John seemed a bit surprised at the question. He glanced at you for a moment, knowing full well that there were no graves for the two of you, and yet he spoke his answer casually, "Considering you're the Duke's proxy, you'd get those fancy granite slab headstones."

You scrunched your nose as you think about it and John gave you a thin smile, "What? Not fancy enough for you?"

"Try too fancy," you muttered, pulling your knees to your chest as you gaze out to the sight of you and the rest of the people you have called your own family the moment you got transported there.

You were walking beside who you knew as Cale. You could recognize him so easily despite how his face was horrifically switching to the faces of your old male friends. The way he carried himself, how he dressed. Your brain reminds you frequently of him and it made you realize you have accepted the fictional character to be another human being too many months ago. It is an odd moment for such an epiphany.

"I've been feeling weird these days," John suddenly says. You turn to the man, a teasing remark about to fall from your lips to question him how he could feel if he's dead when you noticed something.

John stood beside you, appearing like he was some sort of ghost. He was nearly transparent.

"John?"

Cale sat on a meadow of dianthus flowers, the purple flowers with white tips blowing on the wind and spreading across the field like someone had dumped a basket full of flowers there. He sees the sky, red and orange-like flames as the sun began to set. He sees you in the distance, wearing your modest sundress and walking along the meadow, stomping on the flowers without a care in the world. You don't seem to notice him, picking up your sundress a bit like a noblewoman so you wouldn't step on the lovely dress.

Your hair moves with the wind and with every step you take. Under the shine of the setting sun, your skin seemed to glow warmly. This is how he remembers you and it will always be like this forever. He has no memory of pale skin and bloated skin on you. He had never seen your breathing stop, and for once, Cale was glad he never could have found you. He was not sure he could stomach another death. 

Cale calls out for your name, his voice quiet. He began to stand up and watch your figure as it began to get smaller in his line of vision, watching you walk away from him and towards the sunset. Cale calls for your name again, louder this time as he began to follow you, his long legs slowly moving faster as his heart began to drum in his ribcage, begging to be freed from its confines to pursue it's object of affection itself. 

You're too slow, his heart seemed to plead. Please, I need her.

Cale calls out your name again, beginning to run despite how he knew he wasn't the best at sports in this body. But in this dream, his body is light and yet heavy at the same time. He desperately reached for you, arm extends and he almost jolted at the feeling of your blowing sundress brushing against the tips of his fingers.

His heart soared. More, it begs him.

You turn around and before Cale could see your face, the meadow seemed to grow larger. The flowers and tall grass seemed to move together, elongating and swirling in odd ways before they encased you as if you were a pupa. The last thing he could see was how your [e/c] eyes seemed to stare at him before a branch covered that small opening as well.

Cale woke up with a start, his face feeling wet and breathing slightly labored. He lets go of Raon who he had tucked close to his side as he slept, hand coming up to clutch at his chest as he tried to slow down his heartbeat. He feels the scar there and tries to remind himself that it was just a bad dream. It was an odd, bad dream. Cale turns to the window, seeing that the sun was shining bright, meaning he had overslept again.

'Huh,'  he thought, rubbing his face. 'Damn.'

He was supposed to be up earlier to look around the library for anything that could be of use regarding foreign primordial gods. 

He slowly got up from the bed, making sure to not wake the kids as he began to freshen up a bit before having Ron help him. He doesn't want the butler to know he had a bad dream, because Ron had been looking at Cale with a certain gaze lately ever since they had begun looking for any primordial foreign gods that could have been the ones to persuade you to leave them all. 

You are desperate, the older man's gaze seems to say. Cale doesn't feel like confirming or denying that assumption, so he never probed further.

"Young Master-nim," Ron began slowly as Cale and the kids were enjoying their dessert. 

Cale looks up at Ron, swallowing a bite of his blueberry cupcake. "What is it?"

The three kids peered at Ron curiously. They were curious about what Ron wanted to say and that he needed to speak of it during their lunch.

"I think it's about time this humble servant of yours handle the arrangement for Miss [Name]'s room and her remaining belongings," Ron proposed, his words uttered in a soft way that sounded unfamiliar to him. 

The keys to her room, his words implied. Give them to me.

Ron had observed the way Cale grieves. He sees what Cale does to cope with this loss, and he decides it's enough. It's time he locks your door and manages the room whenever it needs any cleaning or refurbishing if any of the furniture were to start falling apart. You already have an empty grave at the memorial. There was no need for another one here. 

Cale stared at the blueberry cupcake as if it were the most interesting thing in his life as he listened to Ron's words, immediately catching on to the implications. He acknowledge the odd way he was attached to your room and belongings were unhealthy, and he has no room to argue with Ron. "Okay."

Ron nodded, bowing his head a bit. "Thank you, Young Master-nim."

Cale leans back to the couch he was sitting on, finally looking up at Ron. "Any news from the others?"

"None so far, I'm afraid," Ron says as he began cleaning up the table, picking up the dirty dishes to the stainless steel food cart. 

"Oh, Human, Human!" Raon began to say, taking out the magic communication device from his spatial inventory. The device glowed and showed Withira's anxious face as Raon placed it on the table.

"Cale-nim," Withira greeted, her expression mixed with something like anxiety and hope. "I have news regarding Miss [Name]."

Cale's eyes widened for a moment before he frowned. Withira wasn't informed of your letter and how a foreign god seemed to be the trigger for you to leave them all. Cale concluded grimly that the reason why Withira could be calling for him now about you is possibly because she finally came across your corpse. "Did you find her... her body?"

Withira shakes her head and she leaned forward to her screen, causing her to appear bigger in Cale's. "Even better. I found her alive and breathing."

Cale's eyes widened and he stared at Withira. The future royal leader of the Whales has no reason to lie to him, and she would be foolish to use you to even make a joke like this. Cale knew Withira well, and she was no fool and loyal to a tee. "What do you mean?"

"She's alive?" Ohn asked while looking up at Withira with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, something Cale realized had been gone ever since you were officially declared dead.

"Are you sure?" Asked Cale with a frown, his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage like it had when he had woken up earlier.

"I held her," Withira says as calmly as she could. "She was warm and breathing. I checked her pulse and even pressed my ear to her chest to make sure, and her heart was beating. It was slow, but it was there."

Cale's brain was a mess, trying to grasp reality. He searched for every hypothesis his brain could come up with on how you could still be alive. The ship had sunk far from land and it was close to dangerous waters. You're human, so devastatingly human. You wouldn't be able to survive. You should have died from drowning, from dehydration, and perhaps you should have died from being feasted on by the predators of the sea.

You shouldn't be alive.

"Show me," Cale says, a tinge of hope beginning to be shown in his voice.

Withira pursed her lips. "I... I cannot."

Cale frowned and so did everyone in the room. Hong looked at Withira's image on Cale's screen and asked, "Why not?"

"She was on an island," Withira says. "There is a floating island that had been going in and out of our territory for hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands. I, along with Paseton and Archie, stumbled upon it during our swim. We inspected the island and found proof of an ancient civilization and no animals living there. When we ventured deeper, we found Miss [Name]. She was in a ruin, on top of a stone altar, and she wasn't conscious."

"Did you manage to get her out of there?" asked Cale, his suspicions and interest piqued at the situation Withira had faced. It was weird and unsettling how you were alive all this time, laying in a ruin within a floating island that he had never heard of.

"We were attacked before we could," Withira says. 

"Attacked?" Cale repeated. The gears in his brain worked. Who could attack them? A floating island in the middle of the ocean. Could you have been saved? Or stranded on that island? Perhaps this was the place that foreign god promised you, as you've mentioned in your letter. Perhaps this was proof that your so-called death was perhaps just a tiny scheme within a great one if you needed to be on that island to the point your "rescuers" would be attacked the moment they touched you.

"Cale-nim," Withira says grimly. "The island... could possibly be alive. Sentient."

Cale rubbed his face a bit as he let the information sink in. He's racking his brain, trying to connect your letter and the information Withira had given him. An island that was sentient, but your letter claimed to hear voices. Even if an island was alive and sentient, whatever that meant, it couldn't possibly use telepathic communication with a clear target of who would be the receiver.

"The island floats, you say?" Cale asked. 

Withira nodded. "Yes. Some of our whales are tailing the island as we speak. The island is able to grow long barks that attack, even underwater, so we must keep a safe distance away."

Cale looks at Withira's image on his screen, his hand covering his mouth as he thinks. His mind is jumbled and he's trying his best to think logically. Cage, Jack, and Hannah had been sure that whoever it is that had been communicating with you is a God. "Are there any signs of religion or worship that happened on that island before the civilization died out?"

Withira's eyes widened and by the looks of her expression, Cale only needed her to voice out the answer. Withira slowly nodded, "Y-yes... There were many sculptures of flowers propped on a pedestal all around the island. The ruin we have found Miss [Name] in resembled a great hall or even a place of worship."

"Flowers," Cale repeated, interested.

Withira nodded once more. "Yes, flowers. The barks around the island move like your power, Cale-nim. They are able to elongate and grew and shrink in size, and they have flowers all over the island that has the same shape as the flowers that were sculpted to represent their deity."

A deity within a floating island that controls trees and is represented by a flower, Cale made this mental note. "And the flowers. What do they look like?"

"They were..." Withira closed her eyes, recalling the flowers that grew in the island. It was a unique flower that she had never seen before. "They were purple, perhaps even a deep red, with white tips."

Withira's description made Cale straighten his posture. He recognized this flower. That was the flowers he dreamt of earlier when he woke up. Was this some kind of sign? A sign from you? Perhaps, even the world? Or was this to taunt him?

"Thank you, Miss Withira," Cale says, beginning to stand up. "We will come to your location within a few days time and request that your company lead us to this island."

Withira nodded, bowing her head slightly in respect. "We will be waiting for you."

The next few days were a frenzy for everyone.

Cale and his company were intensely researching a foreign god that was represented by a flower and associated with nature. There were plenty of minor gods that were associated with nature, so it was a large margin to work with. Cale had requested Alver to aid in their research as well, ordering a few scholars to work within the Duchy and the Palace library to find answers. They had enlisted several people in the neighboring Kingdoms and Eastern Continent as well to research, hoping for any sliver of solution.

When they eventually stumble upon a list of few possibilities, Cale and his company eventually went to one of the islands within the Whales' territory, seeing Withira already waiting for them along with Archie.

"You're here," Withira breathed out, the weight of anxiety on her shoulder lifting a bit upon seeing Cale and his company, their faces slightly anxious and hopeful. 

"Have you gotten back to the island? How is [Name]?" Rosalyn asked almost immediately, anxiety laced within her voice. Withira gave the red-haired mage a solemn shake of her head, blue hair that resembled clear ocean waters swaying lightly. "Our men haven't been able to go near the island within a few meters. I've instructed them to safely tail the floating island from a safe distance."

Cale took note of Withira's words, recalling the information Withira had given them regarding the floating island's capabilities to ward off intruders by growing barks from below the floating sediment that it seemed to grow on. It caused any large underwater creatures unable to go near the island, protecting the soft base of the island to not break apart. He could assume you weren't regarded as a danger according to the island's "instincts" as you were able to enter and stay within the island. Or maybe you were brought by something or someone.

"So we wouldn't be able to reach the island safely," Cale says to Withira, who nodded as she jumped back to the waters and transformed to be her whale form.

"Please be on your guard the whole time we approach the island," Withira says as Cale and the others began to get on top of a ship tied to Archie's whale form. "The island is able to attack within a distance so this boat will most likely be destroyed while out in the middle of the ocean. You will have to fight your way into the island."

"And the island is sentient," Ron seems to remind Cale. "It seems even if we did get onto the island, we wouldn't be safe within it."

"That's right," Withira confirmed. "The island flourished in its flora, which could move and change shapes and sizes to attack and defend. Thankfully, the island lacked any fauna. Not even birds, so we can be sure it doesn't have control over mammals and such. That could be why there were no animals. Too hard to control."

Cale caressed the kittens' fur. "That's a good thing to know."

"I've never heard of a floating sentient island before," Rosalyn chimed in with a thoughtful look. "We've conducted a heavy research for a few days with some of the royal scholars and several from other countries, but found nothing."

"It is a popular folklore within our kingdom," Withira informed. "We all have heard of the stories of a floating island ever since we were mere calves. We've always been told to avoid it if we ever see it, though this is the first time I have seen it in my two hundred years of life."

"What does the folklore entail?" asked Choi Han with interest. Folklore of certain communities has always been an interesting thing to learn about and some always seemed to be mystical and unsettling.

Withira seemed to think for a moment, perhaps thinking back to her childhood. "That within the floating island lived a very sad man. He could not leave the island and had no friends. To avoid the feeling, he decided to sleep. Every time he woke up, he is devastated to know he still felt sad, so he would always go back to sleep every time he woke up. He slept, slept, and slept until he eventually falls into a deep slumber where no one could wake him up."

"It has been a story to scare young calves for sleeping too much and not training themselves," says Paseton. "We've only been told to stay away from the island to not rouse the man from sleeping and also because even our previous kings had been adamant on not approaching the island if not needed."

'Quite the lazy story,' Cale thought to himself, but he did have to admit the story was quite realistic. Sleeping and depression go hand-in-hand. 

"Well, did you find a man there?" Cale asked. He wants to know whether or not the folklore had some truth in it.

"We found a corpse of one," Withira answered. "And we also found [Name], alive but not conscious."

"How long do you estimate the man has been dead?" asked Cale, a theory brewing in his mind.

"Long enough," Withira answered. "Maybe around two-three months."

The gears in Cale's brain seemed to click and agree upon a theory. That was around the time the ship you boarded sunk. 

'Could it be...?'

Following a floating island meant following an object that's constantly moving. Withira suspects that it was capable to avoid being so close to any shores was due to the bark that was capable of growing on the base of the island, navigating it to tour the ocean non-stop. 

It took them nearly five hours when they managed to get a glimpse of the island. A glimpse. The blue morning sky had turned into an orange canvas with splashes of red and purple when Cale and his companions saw the floating island. It was followed by a couple of Whales, the water splitting and rippling from the swish of their tails as they followed the island from a safe distance.

"How magnificent," Rosalyn breathed out in wonder as she lays her eyes upon the island. 

The island was quite small, floating quietly on the deep ocean waters. The edges of the island were stones and large boulders, curling up inwards and resembling a roughly made stone bowl. It was green and flourishing, tall trees and long, multiple branches with many leaves. But the one thing that was eye-catching about the island was the tall tree in the middle of the island, looming the other trees so magnificently, to the point it looked like the island was the root of this big tree.

"Look at the bark of the main tree," Withira says to them all. 

They all followed her words, inspecting the large tree and with its odd bark. The tree looked like it was made of multiple barks, twirled together and stretched until it was nearly as high as the skies. Multiple dianthus flowers, in color and sizes, grow on the tree along with its bark.

"The root of those twirling barks is where Miss [Name] is," Withira informed. "With the island being sentient, we cannot erase the possibility of the tree immediately closing in on her when your motives became clear."

"Your Highness," Archie suddenly says, pausing on splitting the waters. "It has noticed us."

"What?" Choi Han asked with wide eyes. "Their radar goes this far?"

"Everyone, please hang on!" Archie exclaimed, sounding alarmed, and Cale and the others immediately held onto the railings of the ship. 

Archie bends his whale form so impossibly sharp, his jaws open and he bit down into the oncoming bark underwater. The bark seemed to go frantic, trying to thrash out from Archie's jaws. Multiple barks immediately shot out from underneath the floating island, spreading and targeting every Whale on its tail while keeping themselves underwater. The ship swished along with his movements as he's attempting to rip the bark and it took only moments before the ship capsized, upside down in the ocean.

Another killer whale came, trying to protect the ship they were on as Withira joined the defense, trying to ward off the oncoming barks. Cale made the wind gather into his feet and pushed himself further to support the others so they wouldn't drop to the ocean, spurting blood from his mouth.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han exclaimed in worry. His voice caught the attention of others and they turned to him, all of them equally concerned. 

"Human, don't push yourself!" Raon reminds him with glassy eyes while Cale set them all to the wet hull of the capsized ship, a temporary solution to their current problem. Cale was on his knees, coughing out some blood as his body worked to restore his energy. 

"Young Master-nim," Ron says, kneeling next to Cale and offering him a handkerchief. Concern crossed his face with the way his eyebrows are slightly creased, the corner of his lips pulled into a displeased frown.

"This is your chance!" Withira exclaimed, smacking an attacking bark with such force that it immediately broke off and became a deadhead in the middle of the ocean. "We will clear the pathways. Get on my back and hang on tight. We will try to avoid the attacking barks."

"We will try to help," Choi Han says with a determined look.

"I'm fine," Cale says to Ron before the butler could help him stand up and help him to Withira's back.

Cale sat in the middle of Withira's back, hand on top of the scar on her form as he prepared himself. Ohn and Hong was tucked close to his chest, Cale holding them with one arm while Ron was beside him. Choi Han and Rosalyn stood in front of them, Rosalyn with her mana ready and with Raon floating by her side. Choi Han withdrew his sword and planted his feet on Withira's back. "Excuse us, Your Highness."

"Are you ready?" Withira asked them, her voice sounding tense.

"Yes," Cale responds.

Withira split the water when she swam, evading the barks and while her men fought off any barks that dared to attack her. Some barks shot out from the water to knock down those standing on her back, but Choi Han immediately sliced them off with his sword and Rosalyn and Raon would protect them by conjuring a shield. Sometimes a killer whale would jump out from the water to stop the barks and lighten the work for them. 

'They're trying their hardest to protect the island,' Cale thought as he watched how the barks had begun to focus more on Withira as she's the only one approaching the island right now.

"Shit-!" Rosalyn conjured up a bigger shield when a killer whale was thrown their way, thrashing in the air and then letting out a wail when it hit Rosalyn's shield. Her shield shook and flickered at the impact but Raon's shield immediately covered it.

"Crazy!" Withira exclaimed, watching as the barks began to chase for her Whales, thick barks wrapped around them and then rising from under the water before throwing the killer whales like toys at them. With more protection, the island began to earn more things to throw at her. "Back down!"

The Whales immediately followed her roar, backing down and avoiding the barks. Withira swam further, mustering all her capabilities into this one swim and the water split as if a high-speed ship with a sharp keel had swam through them, approaching the island quickly. Raon and Rosalyn put more effort into their shields as the barks began to attack them straight on above the water and Choi Han took every chance to slice them off.

"Urgh-!" Withira was suddenly set back as two thick barks quickly shot out and pushed her. The inertia caused the group to nearly got thrown into the dangerous waters but Cale immediately gathered all of his powers and gathered wind into their feet, carrying them up into the air and quickly controlling the wind to bring them into the island.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Cale exclaimed, trying to make them all land safely inside the island, behind the curling boulders. He ended up throwing them to the dirt a bit haphazardly, but the skilled people he was with managed to land on their feet.

Withira and the Whales swam back, watching from afar. The barks immediately backed down as well and gathered back underneath the floating island's foundation underwater. Withira could feel the two spots on her belly where the barks had pushed her, knowing she will have a hard time swimming for a while if not healed properly. She turned to her Whales, "Is everyone okay?"

As Withira checked on her Whales, Cale and the others looked around the island. Cale had known of floating islands, most were artificial for different purposes, and natural floating islands couldn't get too big. But this one? It was magnificent. The earth was solid and the trees that grew on the island stood tall and loomed over them like giants, dense and slightly unsettling. 

"To be able to grow this tall and big..." Cale began, his voice fascinated. These trees were able to grow and flourish for nearly more than a millennium, and as he inspected them closer, he saw no damage done to the trees that could be caused by the constant exposure to salt-laden ocean spray. Typically, when trees grow so close to the ocean, the salt in the air can accumulate on leaves and stems, causing salt burn on plant tissues. Salt burns can disrupt the normal functioning of leaves, leading to reduced photosynthesis and overall stress on the tree.

The leaves on the trees don't even have any hint of yellowing or browning. It grows healthily despite growing so close to the ocean. In areas with high salt exposure, the soil can become saline due to the accumulation of salts from the ocean and it should have stunted the trees' growth, but these trees stood tall and strong for so many years. 

Cale touched the curling boulders that seemed to be protecting the island from having any stranded people or ships. The way it curled inwards made the island look like a giant bowl, and it could have been the thing that had been protecting the trees from too much ocean spray, as the curling boulders stood taller than Toonka seemed to be.

"I'm surprised the trees on this island aren't attacking us," Rosalyn commented, looking warily around the area. 

"I thought the island is sentient?" Ohn questioned, pawing lightly at one of the roots of a tree with Hong beside her. In her mind (along with the rest of theirs), the island should have been more aggressive the moment they stepped into the island's dirt.

"Keep your guard up," Cale says with a frown. "Her Highness told us [Name] is at the center of the island, underneath the roots of the main tree."

They all turned their heads to look up at the looming tall tree that stood in the middle of the island, so tall that Cale was sure if he went up there, he would be cold and have a hard time breathing. Cale turned to look at the dense forest in front of them, seeing how there were cobblestone paths laid within the dirt as steps, mold growing on them and many were cracked. He turned to Raon, "Raon, do you think you can see the path to the main tree if you fly high enough?"

Raon offered Cale a smile. "Of course! I am the mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good," Cale says with a smile, gently patting the dragon's head before Raon flew up high enough until he could map out the area. He turned to them, calling out, "Human, follow me! I can see the root of that big tree!"

"Let us go," Cale says, walking forward and entering the dense forest, his companions following him from behind with their guards up.

As they walked deeper into the forest, more proof of a past civilization began appearing. The cobblestones were spread in the dirt like a path of a no-transport city, several cobblestones, clay, and wood lay on the ground on what they all assumed must be the homes of the people who used to live there, nature taking over the buildings and have broken them down back into their natural states. Some roots of trees were so big and thick that it was hard to not see and trip on one of them. There were several pedestals of boulders that had been carved into the shape of a dianthus flower, which oddly seemed to be the native flower within the island.

An ancient civilization couldn't be wiped out of existence so quickly like this. It would need some kind of draught or perhaps a drop in the humidity, but the trees flourish here and it would certainly provide enough food for them. Perhaps even a tsunami or an erupting volcano wiped them all out, but the ruins within the island showed that there was no eruption and no tsunamis. The floating island wasn't connected to any tectonic plates so it wouldn't be able to even experience an actual earthquake. The curling boulders by the shore would prevent anyone from leaving, so they couldn't have migrated.

"C-Cale-nim," Choi Han stammered, face averted from Cale and looking down at a lowland from where they were.

"What is it, Choi Han?" asked Rosalyn, following his gaze and her face also paled.

Cale approached them both and looked at where they were looking at. It was a graveyard site that stretched over fifty by fifty meters. Typically a graveyard site wouldn't make one freeze in place, but in front of them was a graveyard site that had all of its graves dug out, graveyard dirt tossed to the side and from their place on an elevated spot, Cale could see that there were no bodies within the graves.

"They all look freshly dug," Ron says quietly. If the graves were dug out a long time ago, the piled-up soil nearby wouldn't be looser and less compacted than the surrounding ground. 

'Are we going to fight the undead?' Cale thought to himself, bewildered. He then discarded his thoughts the moment he noticed the dug-out soil didn't look like it was removed from inside the grave. 

"Let's hurry," Cale says, anxiety crawling up his spine. He bends down a bit, gently pushing the kittens to face away from the graveyard site. "Follow Raon. We need to find [Name] first."

Choi Han forced himself to look away and continued walking. He couldn't imagine having his loved ones' graves disturbed in such a degrading way like that. Rosalyn pats his back, urging him to walk forward and follow Raon who was waving at them, blissfully ignorant of the reason for their sudden stop as he had flown a bit further.

"Human! I found the roots!" Raon announced with a slight grimace. "And it stinks!" 

[obsolete-stars-if]

I couldn't sleep soooo... More @drinkyourvillainjuice ff. The pairing, as always is simple

M!Wil x Tmasc MC

This one I call "going monkey mode". I would also like to know how everyone else reacts to monkey mode.

You're not sure when you let your guard down enough to do this. But your eyes fly over Wil's face and before you can consider otherwise, you're extending your hand to his, "May I?" Your voice quiet to match the atmosphere.

He gives you a look up and down, but gives you his hand anyway, waiting for whatever you have in store. And today's sale is nothing else but the most instinctual care someone can give and receive.

You take his hand into yours, gently go over the back of his hand, to his fingers and eventually his fingernails. You bring it up closer, feel over the nail bed underneath the chipped nail polish. His cuticles pushed back and cut, well taken care of. You then turn his hand, brushing over and checking each fold. Before you let your thumb glide towards Wil's wrist, feeling and listening to his heartbeat.

Warm and steady. Alive.

Eyes flying over his arms, stopping every now and then to feel over patches of skin, further up until you reach his neck. You reach for his chin, stopping just before, waiting for his approval. When Wil nods, you gently move him by the chin to look away from you. You turn to inspect his neck, his ears, the beginning of his hairline.

"You know..." You whisper, "Many consider a species to be civilized if they take care of their elderly and disabled." Your hands brush over his hair, you're looking for split ends. "Primates do this all the time. This is similar to what their grooming process looks like- It's a medical check up."

You brush over a small mole, not raised, small, symmetrical, and solid color. "And we do this all the time, verbally checking up on friends, parents looking after their children, and coddling when sick." His skin is smooth, no bumps or lumps to look at for more than a moment before moving on.

"It's why the touch of others feels so comforting at times." Your fingers find his lips, "It's a primal desire to be seen and taken care of." He uses chapstick, you note to yourself. "We haven't evolved past that point yet, and I don't think we ever should."

You finish your nonprofessional check up with a last look over his face. He blinks a few times, taking in what you said. Wil whispers back, "So you just went monkey on me?"

You groan and lean back, but you can't hide a small laugh. "Yes, I went monkey on you." Wil's eyes light up with amusement, "So what's your diagnosis, doctor?"

You close your eyes and hum audibly. "That depends on how you feel." You answer. "I could give you another check up if you want more personal attention."

"How could I ever say no to monkey mode?" Wil chuckles.

You nod, all wisely, before reaching out for his hand, "Then I must continue, as you, my patient, are very clearly not satisfied with my services yet."

[zenkor123]

Peeta Snaps Concept

Fires burn fires burn FIRES BURN the demons, THE DEMONS, they scrape me and rip me apart. I try to be a great mutt in the service of the rebellion, rhis is what I was preparing for right? To harness the fires and aim it at the capital! BUBBLES SHINEY BUBBLES!! all the windows in my mind break, trains derail, fires burn, wires crack. Hold it together Peeta Boggs is Dead, BOGGS IS DEAD Coin murdered a valient warrior, the best Panem had to offer. I attack and kill a demon but I fight it was no Demon that was Holmes! And I almost hurt Katniss! Who appeared like one of ths demons. I run towards the water it looks so peaceful I run towards it so I can know it's peace. Hallucinations of coin and Snow tell me "no, you have to kill Katniss " but I put my middle finger in the air and say "Fuck you Coin!!." I can't hear much but Annie screaming. I see my life play before me it's all hazy and I run towards the peaceful water, I will become one with the water. Everything then turns black am I dead yet? Is there an afterlife and am I there? BUBBLES SHINY BUBBLES!!! But I hear Johanna and Katniss talking and I cry. I am useless, it's bad enough that I have to be part of an execution by Coin but I have to witness myself kill the squad. There will be no salvation. The misery unbearable so I see if I can feed the rats using my handcuffs. But it does not work, then I try to leave the room and jump out the window. I run out of the closet door, Annie is in the other closet. And Katniss screams "Peeeta!" I am restrained by Jackson and Katniss but I try to break free to die. I am thrown to the floor and the Demons come back to hurt me. I shiver and my skin is filled with hives. I can't hear anything anyone is saying, but feel paralyzed Katniss grabs my hands, so hard that it is one of the few physical sensations I can feel until she presses her lips into mine. I remember countless things and feel safe, when the demons that guard the memories poke at me I focus on Katnisses lips and the pain goes away. When we have to grasp her air, I pull her back in so more memories can return to me. She pulls me in the next time. I feel warm all over my body. I pull her in again. She says stay with me, I associated "always" with rape prior but there was no rape, there was no rape. I promised to stay with her and without me she will wither. I renew this promise and feel like crying. She collapses on top of me I accidentally pulled her down and rests her head on my heart she is pressing her chin there very hard and holding my face to the point of pain. "Don't let him take you from me" she says fiercely, I say "He never will as long as I have fight in me" Eventually I begin sensing the world around me which stops being shiny and blurry. That is the worse episode I have ever had. Katniss has Boggs holo. I feel determined to ripp off the skin of the white imp, and keep his head as a trophy. There's no better death then that done in the attempt to melt the toxic snow. Feeding him to the mutts would simply lead to the death of the mutts from all the poisons that are in Snow’s veins. His blood itself could be used as a poison. I'm glad we are dead and see a clearer view of events from the capital, considering that I'm a mutation, I don't lose it over the death of Holmes besides the occasional tear. I suggest when Gale asks the next step I suggest either breaking down holes in walls in residential houses, or going into the sewers. I don't care who I kill as long as I get Snow’s head barbecued on a trident. So I don't mind being unhandcuffed. But then Octavia finds smart cuffs for me and Annie, should we lose it the elastic smart cuffs will tighten, Katniss has the key to it. When Katniss asks how I am and brushes my hair I tell that "only two things are holding me together, you and the image of Snow's unrecognizable mutilated corpse"

I go over the mutts that we will face In the capital give a layout of the mansion and whatever I know about the snowman unit defending the mansion known as the Presidential guard

(The change in Peeta's syntax is due to him finally snapping)

[salvatoraes]

CHARACTER SHEET

FULL NAME. stefan antonio salvatore. NICKNAME. stef, steffy, stefano, hero hair, the ripper of monterey, rippah ( klaus only ). PRONOUNS. he + him. SIZE. 5'11. AGE. 520+ ( technically ) 18 ( physically ) ZODIAC. scorpio. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. italian, english, french & spanish.

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

HAIR. light brown, could be considered blonde to some people. wavy, curly when wet or damp. usually a bit fluffy or styled with gel. EYES. forest green, mesmerizing, soft. somewhat expressive when in thought or contemplating. SKIN TONE. tan. cheeks gets flushed when embarrassed, angry, or hot. BODY TYPE. tall, skinnier but fit. VOICE. calm or calming usually, deeper. he speaks slower sometimes to make things clear. however, speaks very quickly if in italian. DOMINANT HAND. both, but right more so. POSTURE. excellent, he slouches on occasion when exhausted but his posture is overall excellent. SCARS. one scar on the lower right side of his abdomen from a bullet wound. curtesy of his father when he shot him & damon & they were left to bleed to death. BIRTHMARKS. no birthmarks. MOST NOTABLE FEATURES. his green eyes, the one stray freckle under one of his eyes thats close to his cheek, his hair & his dimples.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃

PLACE OF BIRTH. florence, italy. HOMETOWN. florence, italy. SIBLINGS. older brother, damon salvatore. ( 8 years older ) PARENTS. giuseppe & lilian salvatore. ( both deceased )

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

OCCUPATION. fake high - school student, mechanic or writer. CURRENT RESIDENCE. mystic falls, virginia. CLOSE FRIENDS. lexi branson ( his best friend of five hundred years, until his brother kills her ) , caroline forbes, elena gilbert ( when not a couple ) , klaus mikaelson ( sometimes, depending on the day, the decade, the century, if you know, you know ) FINANCIAL STATUS. wealthy, though doesn't need money to survive. DRIVER'S LICENSE. yes, his car is his most prized possession. CRIMINAL RECORD. does this apply to vampires ? VICES. bloodlust, self - loathing, guilt, not carrying about his own safety when it comes to others.

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bi- sexual & bi - romantic. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. he's a switch, top leaning unless with men. TURN OFFS. not much tbh, just don't fall for his brother after you fall for him lol. & don't pressure him into things or opening up if he's not comfortable. TURN ON'S. compassion, loving, caring, good sense of humor, understands him & will let him open up when he's ready, confidence, kind to others, etc. LOVE LANGUAGE. quality time, acts of service. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. over protective but will let them make their own decisions, often cooks for them or wants to, can be really romantic & sweet, likes to go on dates, puts his all into his relationships but likes to go slow at points. he will definitely put their needs before his own.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒

CHARACTER'S THEME TUNE. hold on by chord overstreet or wanted dead or alive by bon jovi. HOBBIES TO PASS THE TIME. writing, reading, exercising, hunting, driving. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left. SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL. little but doesn't show it, he's very good at hiding his emotions.

tagged ( stole from my pookie ) : @tellsjokes <3 tagging : consider yourself tagged if you see this ! tag me if you steal so i can be nosy hehe.

[omniblades-and-stars]

Under the Rays of an Autumn Sun

It pulses, bass beats thrumming so loud they become the shared heartbeat of the dancers under strobing azure lights. The lifeblood of Purgatory's night scene. Sweating bodies press and writhe together in sensual, decadent harmony. An asari undulates and her jewelry glitters like starlight with every pass of the light. There are many beautiful women here tonight, but none are the one I am looking for.

"Amonkira. Lord of Hunters. Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift," I whisper from my seat at the bar. No one hears my prayers over the driving music that courses through our veins. "And should the worst come to pass, grant me -"

"Whiskey, straight please," she says with a voice that has the strength of a rushing river. My prayers are answered before I am finished saying them. She smells of jasmine, a fragile and small, white blossom from Earth. I look up and I am greeted by eyes that look like the desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun, and she is looking at me.

I have always had a weakness for beautiful eyes. Humans have a saying, "The eyes are the windows into the soul." It's a sentiment I wholeheartedly share. Hers are a light brown that I am unused to seeing in humans, but they are heavy. I can see the weight she carries within them, evident in the red lines lightly spidering over the white space around her iris.

Blue tinged glass presses to soft, bare lips, and she coughs as the liquid burns down her throat. A warm chuckle bubbles up after it, and she sits next to me. "I don't know if I'll ever learn," she shakes her head, chestnut waves brush against the sun-kissed and freckled skin exposed on her back. "Eden Shepard," she says and offers me her hand to shake. She is named after the holy garden of one of Earth's many creation myths. It suits her, I think, but the thought passes before I can fully understand why I feel that way.

A warm, calloused hand wraps around mine, rougher than most human women, evidence of a life spent in service to her military. I can imagine how she holds her standard issue assault rifle based on the strength of her hands alone. "Niké Taon," I lie very kindly. The fine hairs on her muscular arms rise above goosebumps in response to my voice. I'm pleased by this.

"What are you drinking, Niké? I'm already regretting my choice. I barely like Earth's whiskey." She swirls the glass around, minute amber waves rise up around the edges, threatening to spill over onto her fingers. The liquor in the glass is pungent, sharp, I would not want to drink it either.

"Serrice Ice Brandy, it is far gentler on the tongue," I say as I raise my own glass to my lips. She watches me as I drink, I can see her eyes move as she considers my actions, my words are a subtle suggestion.

The music changes, it is very different from the usual synthetically generated house music that is always playing here. The beat is slower, and the drums roll out in a cascading pattern over what I believe humans call "funk guitar" that is the accent to the music not the driving force, the movement is all in the drums. Shepard moves quickly, her hand wraps around my wrist, and I fight the instinct to break hers to free myself from her grasp. She smiles at me, she looks like the sun. One of her front teeth is chipped. "I love this song! Dance with me, Niké!" She is pulling me after her, and I oblige.

I watch Eden Shepard every time she comes to the Citadel. In everything, she is meticulous, careful, and guarded. She travels with well-armed companions most of the time, usually a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun. Occasionally, she brings a krogan battlemaster with deep scars cut into his crimson head plates. I am skilled, but I am not foolish.

The only time she is not meticulous, careful, and guarded is when she goes to Purgatory. Here, she is not a commander or a marine. Of the three times I have seen her dancing in the club, she has gone to a hotel with a stranger twice.

I will be the third. It is the only way to avoid unnecessary violence.

Her cerulean dress clings to her skin as if it is a part of her, hard planes of muscle, broad shoulders all on display. Long legs disappear into the fabric stretched across muscular thighs. Now that she is standing, I can see her pistol strapped to her leg, below the short hem of her dress. It is a HMWP, the kind of handgun only a Spectre can get. Her status as the Council’s agent may be the reason why she is allowed to wear it so brazenly here. She does not wear synthetic leather or latex like most of the other dancers. I can feel the breathable, light, organic weave of her dress, soft under my fingers as she guides my hand to her waist.

The music moves through her with a shiver and she is overtaken by a spell. Eden presses her back against me, her eyes are closed and she is adrift in an ocean of harmonic waves. Then, almost as soon as she started, she stumbles, loses the rhythm and she can’t quite seem to get it back. I'm surprised by this, I have seen how she moves during a fight, the rhythm of gunfire guides her and she sows violence with the grace of a ballet dancer. It is why I have chosen to isolate her, she has the skills necessary to be a challenge.

This is clumsy. I know she is not inebriated, her glass is still sitting on the bartop, the honey colored liquid vibrates with the pulsating beat.

She throws her head back against my shoulder, and she laughs. The sound is jubilant, it rolls out of her with reckless abandon, and I am infected. I have not felt unadulterated joy in so long, it awakens a fire within me. The curve of her neck, a fragile thing, easily broken with the right twist of my hands, is exposed to me, and my mind is filled instead with thoughts of suckling on the tender skin there. I want to hear what other sounds I can draw from soft, rose-colored lips.

“I’ve never been good at dancing,” she shouts over the oscillations filling the air around us, she is still laughing, still moving off beat. I find myself enraptured, she throws herself so fully into an endeavor that she is mediocre at without embarrassment.

I have forgotten why I am here. No, I remember, I cannot forget. My goal has changed very suddenly, to end a life such as this would be as snuffing out a sun. The galaxy would grow unbearably bleak without the light of her gold-flecked eyes and the pure, sonorous mirth of her laughter.

I pull her flush against me, I feel the way her abdomen tightens under my palms, and a pleased sigh escapes from her, barely audible over the noise. But I am listening for every melodious note that she will bless me with. I lean down, my lips play across the ridge of her ear, “I will lead you, Eden. We will move as one tonight.”

A shiver rolls down her spine, and her cheeks blossom with color. “Yes,” her response flows out on a gentle breath. She wraps her hands over mine, and we are moving in tandem. Her eyes close again and she gives in, she surrenders control. The way she moves against me is full of power and promise, but she wants to be led. I feel a cord being pulled taut within me, I am full of wanting, and I need to feel her writhe like this beneath me.

As we dance, sweat gathers in beads like crystals along the swell of her breasts, and they roll suggestively into the valley between, disappearing where I cannot see them any longer. She guides one of my hands up her body, it ghosts teasingly over her chest, before she brings our hands to a rest against the side of her neck. I apply the faintest hint of pressure, I can feel the strain of tendons and ridges of her throat.

She moans, a sound of pure desire, and her fingers tighten over mine. “I have a room nearby, stay with me tonight?” A panting and plaintive request, it sounds almost like a prayer. It is I who should be praying to her.

I do not want to deny her, I do not believe that I could. “I said we would move as one tonight. Have you slept with a drell before?”

“I’ve never even seen anyone who looks like you before,” she pauses for a moment before continuing, “You’re beautiful.” She does not seem embarrassed by the admission, and I feel my heart swell with pride.

“I have venom, on my skin, on my tongue. You will be exposed to it.”

She is silent for precious heartbeats, I can feel her pulse quicken with my hand still pressed against her neck. “Will it kill me? Make me sick?”

I am at her ear again, and I can feel her squirm to try to move closer. “No. Eden, it will rob you of your senses until all that you know is the pleasure that I will give you. You will soar to the cosmos with my tongue in between your legs.” Her body shudders and I can feel how she is squeezing her thighs together. Her heart is racing, excitement thrums through her veins, just as it is through mine.

“Fuck,” she groans, and I can feel the warmth rising from her cheeks down to her breasts. She has already come undone for me.

Her grip around my hand increases, and suddenly she is pulling me away from the dance floor and quickly out of the club. The sudden silence is shocking, and I have to shake my head to clear the momentary confusion.

“I know a shortcut, I hope you’re not afraid of back alley thugs?”

It is my turn to laugh, it’s a sound I have not heard in too long. “Not at all.”

Eden’s head tilts a little, and she grins. Something cocksure and self-satisfied falls over her features. She enjoys the risk, and invites the danger to meet her. I have now seen the two faces of the same goddess. “Good. I would much rather see a gun in my face than another reporter’s camera.” I understand now why she comes all the way here to escape her duties and the pressure of being the first human Spectre.

I allow her to lead me through the alleys, though I already know where we're going. The last two were not brave enough to go this way, but I remember the twists and turns of this maze. I have been here before. I know it so well, I can easily spend the walk watching the subtle swing of her hips, the robust curve of her ass, and the sinewy muscles working in her legs as she walks ahead of me. She never looks behind at me, she is alert, her right hand lingers next to her hip, ready to draw her gun in a moment.

It is unnecessary. We arrive at the small hotel, well known for hosting Alliance marines on shore leave, without seeing a soul. She unlocks the door and she surprises me by turning to face me and pulling me into the room after her. The omni-tool on her wrist glows amber, and the door locks behind us. She has me by the collar of my synthetic weave armor, and her lips press into mine and they are even softer than they look. She giggles as I pull her flush against me.

“Do you always wear armor to go clubbing?” She asks her question to my mouth, she sounds deeply amused, not suspicious.

“Do you always wear a gun to go dancing?” I respond with a question that does not answer her query. I am so hot and it is taking all of my willpower not to rush. It is taking all of my willpower not to reveal my true name.

I can feel her smile, but I cannot see it, so close she is to me. “Fair enough … You’re going to have to give me some guidance, I don’t know where I should touch you,” she admits, her breath still warm against my lips.

I am an assassin, not a professor, but I will teach her tonight. I take her hand in mine and bring it to the frills at my neck, "Here, gently." I feel as she runs her thumb slowly across the folds there, she is watching her hand move as though she is trying to memorize the experience. Her touch sends electrical pulses through me, and warmth follows her fingers in a trail. Eden does not notice that I have unzipped her dress until the small straps holding it up fall loose on her arms.

She is not shy, however. Her answer is to step back and pull the garment up and over her head, and simultaneously kick off her shoes. She is suddenly a few inches shorter, but I barely notice. Eden Shepard stands before me wearing only underwear and a gun holster, and she is resplendent. The cheap lights illuminate freckled skin and soft breasts, the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic. The small cloth barely covering the rest of her is soaked with her arousal, and I am overcome by this burning lust that has been building inside of me.

I want to taste her, all of her, starting with her mouth. I take her, my hand finds its way into the soft hair at the back of her head, and her heat is pulled against me, I can feel it even through my armor. Before I can take her mouth for mine, her hand gently falls to my lips. "Wait," she says. Her lids are heavy and she has not moved away, but still I worry that I've offended her. "I want to see all of you first. I want to be able to remember what you look like, clearly."

"Of course," I answer, and soon she is helping me remove the pieces of my armor. I am now as vulnerable as she is, more, in fact. She is still wearing her gun, and I know she's a powerful biotic in her own right. If her plan all along was to put me under a spell and bring me here so that she could end me, it would have worked.

But that is not what she does. Hazel eyes sweep over my form, and she is unabashed in her hunger. "Beautiful," she whispers, and this time she does not stop me from breathing in her praise as I claim her lips. She tastes faintly of the whiskey, but underneath it, something like citrus, she must have eaten before going to Purgatory. I brush my thumb over the roundness of her cheek, it is rougher than I imagined. Chapped by the winds of some barely hospitable planet, I think. As I am contemplating where she must have been last, I reach and undo the buckles holding her gun to her leg. It falls to the floor, and she doesn't care.

Her hands are all over me, her earlier hesitation forgotten as they roam every surface she can touch. She uses feathering touches along my waist and I cannot stop the rumbling chuckle that moves out of me in response, I am ticklish there. Eden hums in delight, and I catalog it as another of her sounds that I will cherish forever after this night. I know I will never see her again after this.

I memorize her on this night. Every sigh, every groan, every pleasured shout. The way she smells, jasmine mixed with the salt of her sweat and the musk of her desire. I know her taste and every place that makes her quiver and shake. The strength of her grasp as she pulls me against her and shouts a name she believes is mine. I will remember her eyes. First, as they were in Purgatory, bright and earthy. Then, as they were as we found release together, pupils so wide, only a thin halo of hazel around depths so dark, I am forever drowning in them.

I am saddened that she cannot remember as I can, but I hope she will think of me fondly. I will always remember how she sleeps on her stomach, an arm and a leg flung over the edge of the bed. I will remember the faintest sound of laughter at something only she can see, her dream bringing her some joke or oddity.

I must leave before she wakes. I am thrice damned and banished from the Garden of Eden of my own accord. I do not deserve to bask in her holy light.

I think I will go to Illium next.

I am crawling through an air ventilation shaft. It is a trite, stereotypical way to conduct an assassination, but effective nonetheless. I am not above convention if it leads me directly to my target. There is a group of soldiers fighting their way up the tower. They are the perfect distraction, this will be far simpler with their unknowing aid.

When I arrive at her office, my target is talking to someone, offering credits in exchange for the opportunity to keep her life. I can't hear the voice of the one she speaks to clearly. Nassana Dantius does not hear me drop from the ceiling.

I land behind a guard. Human male, rear approach, check shoulder to prevent turning, hands to chin and base of skull, neck-snap. Heavy pistol fire to dispatch the remaining guard. Nassana turns, I hold her in my arms as one might while comforting a lover and I shepherd her to the waters so lovingly tended by Kalahira.

There are three soldiers staring at me, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken. To my surprise, they wait for me to finish. As I turn to face them, their leader, a woman, puts her hands on her verdant helmet. She is a freelancer, perhaps.

"Well, I'll be damned, what a small galaxy," she says after a surprised chuckle. Even through the gentle warp of her breather helmet, it is a laugh that I treasure in my memories. A gentle hiss as the seal around her bright green helmet is released and chestnut hair falls in a wave, framing a smile like the sun, but her tooth is no longer chipped. Eyes the color of desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun look back at me. Her cheeks are covered in spidering, but healing scars. There can be no denying it, Eden Shepard stands before me. "It's safe to assume that your name never was Niké, was it?"

She is amused, I can hear her pure, sonorous, mirthful laughter hiding there, just beneath the surface of her question. "I apologize for the deception, Eden. It seemed necessary, at the time." She raises an eyebrow at me, I think perhaps she understands the context, but she is not upset. "I thought you were dead," I remark, everyone knows that she was killed two years ago. And not by me. It seems that fortune favors the bold, and there is no one bolder than her.

"I was dead - spaced with a suit rupture. But apparently it takes more than that to stop me!" She raises her armored fist in the air, a victorious gesture. She is laughing again, soulful eyes twinkle, and I feel the fire awaken in me once more. She is merry in spite of her own mortality. "I'm taking on the Collectors. I need someone with your skills on my team, Thane." I am blessed by my true name on her soft, rose-colored lips.

It is only now that I fully comprehend her two compatriots, a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun.

It is a small galaxy, indeed.

[pretentious-blonde]

I just saw that matchup ask with Steve and it was so great! I loved how you detailed the reasons why you thought they were a good match. If you're still accepting requests, can I have a matchup with the Stranger Things characters (any gender) too? If so, then:

I'm an INFP 9w1 and a Libra (Cancer rising) girl. I'm the eldest of three siblings and I really have that eldest sister energy (responsible but stressed lol).

I'm very introverted and I hate having to interact with people and leave my house, but when I do I can easily pass myself off as an extrovert or at least an ambivert because I really enjoy talking, even though I feel more comfortable chatting to people I'm close to. I'm also very sentimental, a bit of a crybaby and all that. I empathize and get very sensitive to other people's pain, yet I don't like showing everything I feel and think to others. I kind of prefer to keep my things to myself, I guess? Like, I'd kill and die for someone important to me, but it's not like I'm going to keep saying that to them. I think my opinions are my own and other people's opinions are other people's and I respect that and I also expect my privacy to be respected. I've always been at the top of my class, so I guess I could consider myself intelligent (or at least the people around me say), I'm usually quite funny/goofy, sarcastic (when I feel comfortable to be) and organized, but I can also be quite lazy and not even a bit proactive. I always try to be polite and friendly with others, but I won't shy away from a discussion if I have to (btw, I'm very argumentative in discussions lol) And also, as much as I'm an introvert, I don't mind "attracting attention" because I don't really care what people think of me.

About my appearance, I have light brown skin, shoulder-length curly dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I'm Latina (Brazilian), short, around 5'2 and my body is chubby and curvy. I don't have any tattoos or piercings. My style is very much inspired by the late 90s and early 2000s (if I had to choose some reference icons, it would be Lorelai and Rory from Gilmore Girls). I'm not a big fan of makeup, usually I just wear gloss and blush at most, and I only wear earrings or rings as accessories.

Things I like are basically movies and series, music, some books, and cooking. I'm obsessed with everything that involves history and I just love A LOT the 80s (especially movies) and the regency period. My favorite color is purple, my favorite season is autumn, my favorite drink is tea and my favorite animal is dog. My Letterboxd TOP 3 movies are "Mamma Mia", "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and "The Breakfast Club". My dream job would be to be a writer (but I know I probably won't be one). I don't like (most of) indie artists, hot days, coffee, movies and TV shows about superheroes and I rarely like the genres of fantasy or dystopia (I'm not the least bit nerdy lol)

I'm not a fan of clingy people; I prefer those who are funny and intelligent (even a bit of an asshole if it's within the bounds of being a decent human being). For me to fall in love with someone, they'd really need to have been my best friend first, because what I prioritize in my relationship is feeling comfortable. My love language is quality time (receiving) and acts of service/gifts (giving).

I think that's it! I'm sorry if there's anything missing (or if it's too long). I've tried to include everything I think is important about me. Thank you for reading it all <33

I feel like you and Eddie would fit together so well!

Your personality types actually complement each other very well, with you being an INFP and Eddie fully embodying ENFP, you are pretty good at evening him out and vice versa. He kind of realised you were more of a homebody a few weeks into seeing you, even if you can display extroverted energy around others. He doesn’t vocally raise it, but instead just suggests more sweet ideas to hang out when it is just the two of you. Renting a movie to watch in his trailer, just driving around with him in his car listening to music (and yes he does let you always pick what you listen to/watch!). He is a sap over the little moments you share together, watching your face light up when you find a film you want to watch, curling up on the couch with you under his arm, the rest of the world forgotten about. He is able to read you like a book after a while, gaining the ability to know when you are overly stressed or overwhelmed. As your relationship progresses his feelings just continue to grow, he sees it as such an achievement as you get more comfortable around him and let your more goofy side show. You match his sarcasm perfectly, bantering with him and playfully pushing his buttons. He has never laughed so hard.

He is a man of many words but is always calm during these moments, knowing that his loud nature wouldn’t be favourable. Gently coaxing you into his lap and shushing you softly as you babble about whatever has been plaguing your thoughts recently is something nobody has really seen from him. It’s special to you. When the time does come for you to meet his friends, he waits until he gets the all-clear from you, not wanting to push you out of your comfort zone. He has given his friends a thorough warning as well, not wanting to make you feel even the least bit uncomfortable. He has nothing to worry about though, the way you are able to weasel your way into their hearts is almost immediate. They immediately see how gentle and kind you are to their friend and able to pull him back when he becomes too boisterous, that is tied with the way his gaze always seeks you first when he cracks a joke tells them everything they need to know. 

He won’t admit it but he was slightly intimidated by your intelligence, with him struggling all the way through school he felt he wouldn’t be able to keep you mentally stimulated, thinking you would quickly become bored of him. After a few discussions with you about your academic work he is immediately in the library, checking out a few books in an effort to understand what you are talking about, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes scan the pages. You eventually find a few of these books tucked away under his bed, hastily pushed under to try and hide them. When he realises you have noticed he begins to stumble over his words, trying to distract you from what you have seen but you can’t hear anything over the feeling of your chest tightening. You reassure him that he doesn’t need to stress himself out over trying to match you intellectually. You chose him for reasons completely unrelated, for which he is more relieved than he would care to admit! This doesn’t stop him from asking questions in the future about whatever interesting things you are currently learning about, multiple times. You have all the patience in the world for him and will explain it ten times over if needed.

He tried to explain dungeons and dragons to you once, you asked him about it in passing out of pure curiosity, he began to tell you. However, he soon notices the way your eyes glaze over slightly as you try to follow along with the words coming out of his mouth and he has to hold in a chuckle. It’s adorable how you want to understand what gets him so excited but alas, fantasy is not exactly your favourite genre! He assures you it is no worries and instead just keeps you up to date on what his DnD group is up to, leaving out the world-building and keeping it easily understandable as to not bore you with words you will not know the meaning of! He doesn’t mind you have different interests, you both have your outlets and can focus on different things, even if you are sitting in the very same room. Spending quality time together without needing to be constantly talking.

As soon as you mention any of your favourite things to him, it’s over. You let it slip that your favourite colour is purple and he has run with that ever since! He insists on being a romantic when he can, I don’t think he is really a words of affirmation person, rather he is an acts of service or gift giving. He can’t help but get you small things here and there, absolutely getting you purple flowers when he can or random purple trinkets from vintage markets or thrift stores. Even when you scold him lightly for spending money on you he just shrugs with a small smile gracing his face, telling you the same response every time “It’s purple, your favourite”. Speaking of acts of service, he doesn’t want you to do stuff he can help with. Every morning without fail he wakes you up with a cup of tea, even going as far to have a small cabinet shelf just for the ones you like (far away from the coffee!). He just enjoys you drinking it around him, it might sound ridiculous but just allowing him to see you be pleased with something he has done for you fills him with a sappy feeling he can’t explain. 

The song I associate with you two would be "Shine Silently" by Nils Lofgren! A 70s/80s legend (since you said you love the 80s), he is a member of Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band as well!

[buscemifan]

the entire idea of passing is rooted in that sinister beauty/self-care industry and its even more evil father, capitalism. womanhood is not inherent to anyone, trans or cis, it’s about how much money you can spend on clear skin and trendy clothes and no wrinkles and the correct eyeliner for your face shape and the right lipstick for your color season. it’s about subscription services to hair removal and spray tans and nail appointments. it is a profit-based model of conformity. which is why terfs and transphobes are interested more and more in clocking cis women simply because they don't fit into beauty standards. and it should go without saying that these are white beauty standards, black/brown women are affected by all of this disproportionately (which again makes sense when considering who historically had access to wealth in white societies)

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Dear diary,

I cracked my phone screen it's pretty bad like spiderweb fracture overlay~

Its not the first time something like this has happened cause I am a klutz. But the timing is awful not to mention I checked and service provider no longer carries my particular phone model. I don't want to spend alot on a phone and I have considered totally going rogue and just not having one...~

But it does serve usefulness too, apps with games, reading books online and music etc.~

I'd like an apple phone because they are the ideal of aesthetic cuteness but wayyyy too expensive~

I could go with Samsung brand or maybe Google's phone model?~

The last time my screen was this damaged I picked apart the cracks of glass flecks that were loose and cut myself, somewhat unintentionally but also a little not~

The little bit of blood from scratches wasn't an issue but getting it embedded into skin accidentally and having to remove it like one would a splinter now thats painful. Not a process I want to repeat which means I may or should replace phone sometime this month~

Yay more indecisiveness to deal with!~

I feel fat, maybe am not chubby but I just don't feel skinny/thin or pretty. I want to lose some weight but stupid cravings for carbs and sweets are especially difficult lately~

The hot temperatures keep zapping my energy and slowly sucking the life or motivation to workout away semi effectively leaving the easy prey of napping to occur~

I realized something, it's almost that time of the month for me and while I do have certain longings that want in general in particular during that time of month certain ones get a boosted enhancement of desires for~

Like being taken care of, is it too much to daydream of wanting to wake up to someone picking out outfit to wear, helping style hair, keep me motivated on track with workout, keeping time of schedule while helping me find ways to relax by having me color or draw pictures, basically want to be little sometimes but I am so self conscious, shy and heightened senses of being responsible around others that am not sure could just let go and have fun~

I want to buy a stuffie/plushie or several to have to hug when feeling extra emotional and I've recently considered hand puppets because they look cute and could avoid talking using them to gesture for things but the reality is I doubt I'll ever get them because it's silly for me to want that and they could go to actually children that would benefit from them, ophranges, hospitals for ill patients, secret Santa programs etc.~

[theskincarestudioct]

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[vodika-vibes]

Find Yourself part 1

So. I had an idea, and I decided to write it. I'm not 100% sure how this is going to end, since I don't plan anything in my life, but that's okay. I tried to proof read this since some parts were written in present and some were written in past tense, but I doubt I caught it all, lol.

tagging: @starrrgazingbunny and @kiss-anon

The Clone Wars changed a lot of things in the Galaxy.

There was the obvious one, of course. The genocide of the Jedi, and the overthrow of the Republic into an Empire. Something that affected the life and livelihoods of millions of people across the galaxy.

But there were also smaller changes.

On Naboo, people suddenly realized that they could make it so their ruler had identical decoys. They considered, for a time, cloning potential rulers, but quickly ruled it out as far too expensive.

And then someone mentioned that Genetic modifications existed, and that it was a relatively safe procedure. Not to mention surgical modifications. And with Bacta therapy, the young decoys wouldn’t even have any scars to show that they had been altered in any way.

The theory was bounced around for over a year, and then it was signed into law.

Due to the young age of the Queen, or King, of Naboo, training began young. Which meant the selection process began even earlier. Potential sovereigns were interviewed and selected and sent to diplomatic training. And, at the same time, families across Naboo would be approached by members of the Royal Household. 

Families were offered massive monetary compensation if they signed their child over to the Decoy Program. They were also promised that if the potential sovereign wasn’t elected, the child would be returned to them, slightly altered, but still their child.

No one ever denied them.

Handmaiden Ceté had been one such child, once upon a time. Chosen due to the fact that she had the same fair skin-tone as the Queen Elect, as well as the fact that the Queen Elect knew Ceté, she was the first Handmaiden chosen.

The first to go through the genetic manipulation to change her hair and eye colors. The first to undergo the surgeries to make sure that she remained as dainty as the Queen Elect.

The first to lose her name and identity as a Nubian citizen.

The first Fragment of Eté.

And now, almost 20 years later, Ceté had nothing that made her any different from her sisters. She ate what the Queen ate. Spoke like the Queen. Styled her hair and wore her clothes like the Queen.

She had no individual likes or dislikes, as they weren’t allowed. She had no hobbies that weren’t the Queen’s first. She was a fragment of Eté. It was just how it was.

She wasn’t happy. Or content. But neither were her sisters, so her guess was that this was just a way of life.

Oh, but if she had a choice, Ceté would wear shorts and tank-tops and cut her hair to her chin and dye it pink or blue or green or-. She would dance and laugh and sing and explore the stars. She would wear pinks and yellows and both at the same time. She would lay under a tree for hours, lazily whittling the hours away by watching the clouds. She would dance in the rain and jump in mud-puddles.

If she had a choice, she would choose to be happy.

But her right to have a choice was taken when she was four years old.

“What do you think the Queen has decided?” Jordé asked Ceté as they stood at the side of the room, watching as the Queen prepared for her speech.

“Something awful, I’m sure.” Ceté murmured back with an unamused smile, “Like every other decision she’s made.”

“They haven’t all been bad.” Jordé tried to defend, “I mean…she made the child services system-” She trailed off, “The food drive for widows-” She trailed off again, “What about-...hm…”

“Like I said,” Ceté replied dryly.

“We have a strong military now.” Jordé said weakly.

“A military made up of the children who she shunted into the care system,” Ceté countered under her breath, “Not exactly paragons of Nubian Loyalty, sister.”

Her sister hummed her agreement, “Well, maybe this will be a good announcement.” She murmured, straightening as their other sisters and the Queen finished what they were working on and approached them.

Eté seemed to look through Ceté and Jordé, something that she’s been doing for almost 20 years now, “How are things looking outside?” She asked.

Ceté bowed her head respectfully, “The people have gathered for your speech, your majesty. Everything is prepared for you to begin your speech at the top of the hour.”

The Queen nodded, once, “And the weather?”

“Sunny and humid, Majesty.” Jordé answered promptly, “We have made arrangements to ensure that the podium where you will be giving your speech is shaded with an appropriate cover. There is a chance of rain later this afternoon.”

“Nothing that will interrupt my speech?” The Queen asked.

“No, your Majesty.”

“Good.” She brushed past them without so much as a second glance. Jordé and Ceté waited until their sisters slipped past them as well, and then they fell in line at the end of the procession.

Hopefully the speech would be something warm and uplifting.

It wasn’t.

Ceté kept her face carefully placid, something that long years of experience helped her with, as she listened to the people of Theeds cheer over her Queen’s words. 

She tried to ignore the disgust coiling in her gut, but that was much harder for her to ignore.

How could they agree to this?

The Gungan people were, are, the native people to Naboo! The Republic named them sentients ages ago. Queen Amidala III did not have the authority to overturn that-

Ceté took a steadying breath and gratefully accepted the cool drink that one of the servants offered her.

Her sisters were acting like all was well, hell, even Jordé had looked pleased with the Queen’s announcement that she was beginning a military campaign to exterminate the Gungan people.

Ceté’s grip around her cup tightened, and then she carefully loosened her grip and took a sip of something cool and sweet. A juice made from a fruit harvested here on Naboo. It was the Queen’s favorite, and so it was Ceté’s favorite.

Ceté had put up with a lot in the name of being one of Queen Amidala’s fragments. Years of training, genetic and physical alterations, not having a past or a family, or even a future that wasn’t tied to the woman her parents bound her to.

But this-

She couldn’t accept this.

Wouldn’t accept this.

If no one on Naboo would help her, and, judging by some of the comments she was hearing, none of them would, then she would find help for the Gungan people elsewhere.

Reaching out to the Gungan people themselves was out of the question. As one of the Queen’s fragments, they would likely just kill her on sight. And Ceté couldn’t blame them.

No. She would have to look elsewhere.

She wasn’t sure where, just yet.

But she had always been adaptable, years of training had ensured that.

Ceté leaned against a wall, and sipped her drink, her face calm, even as she started building an escape plan in the back of her mind.

A ship would be leaving Theeds the following morning, heading towards Outland Station, a space station that acted as a hub for spacers, bounty hunters, and pirates.

Ceté would be on that ship, whether anyone liked it or not.

*****************

Kix looked up from where he was doing inventory in his med-bay when the door slid open, and one of the pirates he worked with bounded in with a wide grin on their face.

He didn’t remember their name, he didn’t care enough to remember.

“Hey Doc!”

It was valid since they didn’t bother to remember his name.

“We’re about to be rich!”

Kix turned back to his inventory, “Is that right.” He didn’t care. Doesn’t care.

Apparently the interloper in his med-bay didn’t get the memo, as they plopped themselves on a medical bed, and leaned in towards him, as if to gossip. “Yup, Boss captured one of the handmaidens of the Queen of Naboo. We’re going to ransom her back to them for a massive amount of credits.”

Kix stilled, a lifetime of memories flashing through his mind. He shook off the melancholy as best as he could, and pinned the pirate with an annoyed look, “Did you hurt her?”

“Eh, she might be a little banged up,” They sounded unconcerned, “Nothing to be worried about.”

Kix stood and grabbed his medical kit, slinging it over his shoulder, “I’ll go and see, just to make sure.” He didn’t trust them to seriously hurt her if it meant that she wouldn’t be able to run.

Plus, there was a little voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Rex at his Dad-est, telling him that checking on the hostage was the right thing to do. 

He wondered if he would ever stop hearing the ghosts of his brothers. 

“Come on, doc! I said she’s fine!”

“And I remain unconvinced. Where is she?”

The pirate made a disgusted noise, “She’s in one of the holding rooms.” Kix didn’t wait for him to say anything else, he just brushed past him and left the room.

She was pretty. That was the first thing Kix noticed about her. Long black hair tied in a bun, a slender frame, and a stubborn set to her lips. She had bruises on her cheek and temple, ugly bruises that were already turning red.

“Those look painful.” Kix noted, “Would you let me treat them?”

She gazed at him evenly, “Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” Kix replied.

“Then let me go.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not one of your choices.” He countered as he folded his arms and regarded her curiously. She was remarkably unafraid for someone who had been captured by pirates. “Your options, from me, are letting me treat your injuries, or not letting me treat your injuries.”

Her lips pursed, and her gaze darted around the cell, likely looking for a possible escape.

“Look, the Captain is already reaching out to Naboo.”

That got a reaction. She jerked as though he just slapped her, and all of the color drained from her face, Kix had never actually seen that happen before, though he knew it was possible.

Kix regarded her through half-lidded eyes. Her face was ashen, and her gaze was suddenly darting left and right, as though looking for an escape. And then her gaze met his, and something deadly calm crossed her features. "Once your Queen pays your ransom," Kix said quietly, (Stars how low has he fallen?) "You'll be returned to Naboo, unharmed." 

She lifted her chin, and for a moment, Kix saw a hint of Senator Amidala in her bearing, which made sense, he figured. "My Queen will never pay ransom for one of her shards. And if she did, my life would be forfeit the moment I stepped foot on Nubian soil."

"Shards?" 

"I am a decoy. Nothing more than a fragment of Her Majesty. Fleeing as I did is tantamount to treason. If you return me, you return me to my death."

Something cold ran down Kix’s spine.

He was no Jedi. He had no way to determine if someone spoke the truth or not, but he did know people. He knew how people reacted when they were afraid, and she was terrified.

“Why?” Kix asked, he needed to know. Needed to understand. Naboo was a peaceful planet, or it was during the Clone Wars-

“My Queen has ordered the extermination of the Gungan people.” Her voice was quiet, and her hands, clasped over her stomach, were shaking, “I cannot, will not, allow it to happen. So I’m looking for help.”

She wasn’t lying, Kix realized with a sinking heart.

“Let me go, or a lot of people are going to die.”

Kix stared at her, his mind racing. And then he made a split second decision. “Alright. But I’m coming with you?”

Something cold crossed her face, “Why, so you can get your own ransom?”

He scoffed, and unlocked her cell, “Just because the GAR doesn’t exist anymore doesn’t mean that I’m not still a part of it.”

She blinked at him, startled, “You’re a Clone?” She asked, shock crossing her face. Likely doing the math and realizing that he should probably be dead.

“The last one,” Kix replied with a humorless smile.

She stepped out of the cell, she was tiny, the top of her head level with his shoulder, maybe it was a Nubian thing. “My name is Ceté,” She finally said, “Is there a ship or something?”

“Follow me,”

In the lower part of the pirate ship was a small shuttle, big enough for two people, but only just. “Who does this belong to?” Ceté asked as Kix helped her on board and then climbed up after her.

“The Captain stole the ship from Corsec,” Kix explained as he slipped around her and into the pilot’s seat, “There’s no tracking on it, which makes it good for our escape, but it’s not the best on fuel, so we’re going to want to ditch it somewhere and get a different ship.”

Ceté sank into the copilot’s seat, and absently started helping with the preflight checks, “You have a plan?”

“Not yet,” He glanced at her, and then back at his panel, “Let’s get out of here, and then I’m going to need some information.”

“I’m going to have some questions for you too,” Ceté warned.

Kix released a humorless laugh, “Fair. A question for a question.” There’s silence for a long moment, though it isn’t uncomfortable, as the pair work in tandem to get the shuttle on and off the ship without too much trouble.

They remained silent as Kix pushed them into Hyperdrive, and then he turned and focused his gaze on Ceté, “We’re heading to Takodana, Maz will help us. Or, at least, she won’t hurt us.”

“Alright,” Ceté agreed with a slight incline of her head. “You have questions?”

“Yeah.” Kix paused, likely thinking of all the questions he had, “First, you called yourself a shard. What does that even mean?”

Ceté hesitated for a moment, and then she turned in her chair to look at him, “It’s a long story.” She warned.

“Tell me anyway.”

“Alright.” She leaned back in her seat slightly, “You know how the Sovereign of Naboo has their decoys, five or six young people who take the sovereign's place when they need to be elsewhere, or if they might not be safe.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the practice.” Kix replied.

“Right, well. The Clone Wars changed things,” Ceté paused, “To be more specific, the Clones changed things. People suddenly realized that they could have exact doubles of their sovereign, rather than just close enough.”

“...you’re a clone-?”

“No. Not like you, at least.” Ceté’s smile is slightly bitter, “Cloning is expensive, you see. Genetic alterations and plastic surgery are much cheaper.”

Kix stared at her, hard, “What did you originally look like?”

“I don’t remember. I was four when my parents got the offer for me to join the Decoy program. I underwent surgery and genetic alterations before I was five. Then they took my name and gave me a more suitable one. And before you ask, I don’t remember my name either.”

Kix stared at her silently for a moment, “That sounds…really fucking familiar. Do you have anything that makes you distinct from your Queen?”

“No. I don’t even know what things I like or don’t like, because I had to be a perfect reflection of my Queen.”

“...I never thought I would ever think this, but you somehow had it worse than me and my brothers,” Kix said flatly, completely unimpressed with Naboo. “At least I was able to pick my own hairstyle, and my own name, and how to decorate my armor.”

He drummed a rhythm on the armor covering his thigh, and then he stood, “Do you want a haircut?”

Ceté blinked at him in surprise, “I don’t…I never thought about it.” She stood as well and followed him out of the cockpit.

“It’s just hair, it’ll grow back if you don’t like it.” Kix pointed out as he dug through his kit and pulled out a pair of scissors.

Ceté stared at the scissors for a moment, and then she hesitated, “Maybe…” She gestured to her shoulders, “Shoulder length hair?”

Kix grinned, “Excellent. Have a seat and I’ll get you all sorted.”

Ceté sat on an open chair and Kix stood behind her, carefully cutting her hair to the length that she wanted. His mind was racing. A non-clone Clone. Someone who never had any choice in her life, rather like him, only worse since she existed for a single person.

Kix’s gaze focused on the back of her head. He needed to protect her. She deserved to be protected.

She also deserved to have a choice in her life, maybe he could help her find herself while helping her save the Gungan people.

Maybe she would be able to help him become him again.

Long hair fell to the floor around his feet as he cut her hair, and a small grin crossed Kix’s face. For the first time in, what felt like, forever. He no longer felt haunted by the ghosts of his brothers. 

Yes. This would lead to good things. He was sure of it.

[sickdokidoki]

You can't get out... even if you wanted. Part 4

Unisex reader x Harry Potter (both are adults and this is post Hogwarts)

TW: | Kidnapping | Physical Abuse | Rape | Mind Break |

2093 words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up, drenched in sweat, trying not to scream, Harry sitting at your desk, a bottle of Skelegro next to you on your night stand. He had been so doting, apologising and gently blaming you at the same time, having brought you snacks, flowers, a muggle stuffed animal, more books. He was sweet and gentle, distracting you from your pain, letting you be on top that night, letting you come as well, praising you on how well you were taking it, on how he remembered the pain from the potion, but "look at you, you're not even crying... you're so brave considering how weak and delicate you are..."

That moment you understood that it was hopeless to fight against him, he was too strong, and you had no wand anymore. And you were too tired and it was so nice in there... You hadn't worried about food, about how you'd pay the Ministry for the house services, about how your thesis was being ignored again... you didn't even have to worry about what to wear, Harry took care of literally everything in your life... he only asked for your obedience as a sign of your love for him. And you loved him, didn't you...?

"What did you tell them...?" you dared to ask softly months later after one of those rough tumbles on the bed he so loved; he had his head on your chest and you were playing with his hair... you never knew what to do with your hands and he liked it anyways, so that's what you ended up always doing. "What did they say...?"

"I told them I had made arrangements to send you away on a research trip to Slovenia. They were happy for you, but were sad that you wouldn't be able to send them letters for the first few months as you would be constantly travelling and owls were banned by the Ministry at this stage of the research... a bit strained but they ate it up and those who didn't suck it up anyways for your sake," he had said, caressing your sides, your chest, kissing your skin, being unusually gentle in the afterglow, carefully healing his bites with his wand, your skin scarring anyways he liked the scars... "I need you to write some letters for them now. I think it's the right time... I think it's safe, isn't it...?"

His voice carried an edge, and you shuddered like you hadn't done in quite some weeks. You had learned to please him, to say the right things, and you learned that doing that would inevitably get you what you needed wanted, keeping you safe from his wrath and enveloped in the warmth that was his twisted love for you... So you threw yourself into your new role as Harry Potter's Most Prized Possession, making him happy, doing all the things he wanted you to do, now knowing full well what he expected of you, saying goodbye to your former life, to the you you once knew.

By the by your privileges had grown to the point where you could spend some nights with him upstairs in the warmth of his arms, bathing consistently, being able to choose your clothes, tailored to his taste of course leaving little to his imagination in vaporous tunics, leaving your body accessible at all times for him and his unquenchable lust for it, cooking sometimes for the both of you, always away from the prying eyes of the neighbours always keeping an eye on your calorie intake, you don't wanna be fat for him do you?... Once you looked at yourself in the mirror in his bedroom and you scarcely recognized yourself... but strangely you didn't mind. You liked the new you, protected by The Chosen one, keeping him happy, him keeping you happy keeping you wound free, your arm never did feel the same after that day...

You looked down at him, his green eyes trained on you as you had taken more time than usual in answering his question, suspicion growing inside of him. No, you couldn't have that! That meant back to a bare dungeon, barely eating, cold all the time... besides, even if you really tried to, you couldn't find it in you to betray him, not anymore. That would not only mean he would be disappointed, but he would be hurt by your actions. He had told you so once when he thought you were asleep you slept so little, always at the ready to fulfil his every whim and you didn't want to hurt him, did you??

You gently sat up and smiled at him, cupping his cheek just the way he loved. "Of course, my owner, it's safe! I'll do it if that's what you desire, sir..." you said in those honeyed tones he so adored, in that formal language he had punched in taught you. He loved being called sir, master, lord... Anything that tickled his ego would do, but he especially loved it when you called him "my owner", for he owned you. You were Harry Potter's Most Prized Possession after all, and he liked reminding you that you were his and only his...

He looked deep into your eyes and you knew that he was using Legilimens on you... he would know, he would know that you were truthful and that made you sigh in relief, he wouldn't be hurt now you would be safe from his wrath, his feelings and his heart were safe with you, unlike with her, and he would know it...

A year had passed and you finally were living your best life with The Boy Who Lived as Harry Potter's Most Prized Possession, and you couldn't be happier. You'd gone back forth with your family and friends during those months after your talk, sending owls, receiving owls, telling them how happy you were doing the research, how important it was for the Wizarding World, how your thesis would be published soon, he had promised you that it would if you behaved have you behaved my pet? I will know if you haven't, you know that right...? Yes, sir...

Finally, that very winter he had peered into the chest with a bright smile, magicking the staircase back in place and offering you his hand.

"Come on, my pet. I think it's time..." he had said. You were unsure, time for what? You had just had your Yule dinner with him and now were huddled in your favourite blanket  he had shut off the heating because you had taken the wrong fork while eating the salad  but you should know better, why had you done that?!  sketching out some antique pieces he had brought down for you to write on your thesis about. What on Merlin's beard was he talking about??

But you walked up the staircase, wearing his slippers and one of the vaporous tunics he loved so much on you everything on sight for his viewing pleasure like the beautiful piece of decor you were, the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm giving you your Yule gift right now... I think it's safe now..." he had  said softly. He put his coat on your shoulders, and guided you to the front door. It was snowing outside, you could see it through the glass panes at each side of the wooden oak door, very bright out even though it was the evening you could even see the place where your head had hit the glass the last day of summer when you had mused on why you couldn't go out in the garden at least at night and made a star shape on it he still hadn't fixed.

He opened the door gently and pushed you forward, still smiling. 

"Alright then, go on..." he said, looking at you as you looked back at him. "Go on, get outside now..."

You squeaked, what was he doing?! Was he kicking you out?! Why, why now?! Now that you could fulfil every whim and need and you could make him so happy and talk to him just the way he wanted and cook for him just the way he liked and sometimes not always use the right fork for the right dish?! Why was he being this cruel?! This was no Yule gift, this was hell!!

"No!!" you gasped and turned, trying to fight against his hand pushing your back. "No!! Stop, stop!! Noooo!! Please, don't kick me out!!"

Finally after a second that felt like a thousand years he stopped, you were almost all the way out of the house, but he stopped and let you turn and look at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, trembling not from the bitter cold but from the simple notion of his rejection towards you.

"What did I do wrong?? what did I do wrong?!" you sobbed, falling to your knees, your hands grasping his leg, begging, pleading, his face still plastered with that weird smile he had had when he had pulled you from your safe haven.

He looked down at you, caressing your hair, and then knelt before you. "Thank you..." he said softly, cupping your cheeks, letting you snuggle into his arms with a whimper and a sob. "Thank you... you've done so well, my pet, so well..."

He praised you! That made you stop crying, for praising was one of the utmost gifts he could give you. Was this some sort of test? Did you pass? He hadn't tested you in such a long while... Was this your Yule gift, his praise?

If it was, it was the best gift ever, but he could've delivered it some other way that didn't mess his coat, or your tunic, or your overall mood... But no, he wasn't done. He gently brought you inside in his arms and sat with you before the open door, caressing your hair.

"This is your Yule Gift..." he said and gave you the key to the front door and the one to the gate. "I think you've earned them... You didn't do what she did, you begged to stay, you want to be here with me... Thank you for staying with me, I wouldn't know how to feel if I had had to dispose of you as well. You've done so well this past year, it would've been such a shame... but you passed! You did so well! You've earned it. Would you remain with me for the rest of our lives then...?"

You looked at the keys, then looked at him, then back at the keys.... and threw them away from you. You took his wand, startling him a little, and shakily flourished it how did you remember the spell? it had been so long since you had touched a wand, the door closing on you both, leaving little heaps of snow behind. 

There was no other answer than yes. Even if you had the keys, why would you want them? You hadn't realised it till that moment probably because you hadn't thought about it in such a long time, but you didn't want to leave. You were loved even when you didn't have any energy or desire to be loved, you were safe when you obeyed and complied and were good, he made sure of that... Why would you leave...? There was nothing for you out there anymore...

So you embraced each other, you clinging to Harry tightly, him kissing your head and saying "thank you" over and over... being Harry's Most Prized Possession was the best thing that happened to you ever… you were sure of that now.

A couple of months after that you opened the door to your elegant house in Godric's Hollow, smiling at your friends and the Prophet interviewer, dressed in casual but well made clothes befitting of The Chief of Auror's Betrothed, a glittering engagement ring on your finger, both of you ready to announce your engagement.

You limped a tiny bit and they asked about it, but then you showed them a small cut and nodded towards your flourishing garden, everyone knowing you changed careers to Herbology after your History thesis was published you could work from home under his vigilant gaze no need to get out to do research anymore, simply saying "the Snare got me, but Harry saved me, didn't you my darling?"

"Of course, my beloved... But you have to remember that spell, I won't always be here to protect you, you know?" he said, coming from the garden, cleaning his hands on his apron, his bright green eyes trained on you.

But the both of you smiled knowing that was a lie... he was always going to be there to protect and love enslave you... Always.

[mistydeyes]

Hello! I don't know whether matchups are open and if not you can delete this request. But...

Can you please give me a MW2 matchup? 🙂

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: straight

MBTI: ENTJ-A

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Appearance: 5'7', Slim thick, dark brown eyes (looks black tbh), Curly black medium length hair, fair skinned, wears glasses (cuz I can't see shit without them)

About Me: I'm Indian and I come from a conservative family, and so my upbringing was a bit weird and made me into a weird mess. I would consider myself an introvert. But definitely not someone who sits in a corner of a room and stares. I do enjoy having conversations with people, but my social battery is low and so I get tired pretty quickly. But if I'm speaking to someone who I am really interested in, like my longtime best friend, I would talk for HOURS!!!. When it comes to friendships, I'm a very selective person. I'm not someone who gets close with people as it's very hard for me to open up, as I'm quite reserved. I also don't get along with a lot of people so 🤷🏻. Also, people have pointed out that I look unapproachable and Intimidating as I have a resting bitch face. I maybe having the best time of my life but my face does not show it, at all 💀. Or sometimes, I get really stoic and people can't tell whether I'm sad, happy, or angry lol.

I'm a level headed person, but sometimes people get on my nerves and I'm the type to bottle all of those emotions. Then when a minor inconvenience happens, BOOM! I will literally turn into a demon and my whole day just got ruined.

I'm someone who really cares about my loved ones. I will protect them from anything and I will help them out in any way I can. I'm a good listener and love to empathise with people who are hurt or would let people rant so they can feel better. I'm the therapist and the mom friend of my friends group so.... Yeah, I care about the ones I love wayyy too much. My love language is acts of service, words of affirmation and gift giving. Also, as much as I love giving love and care to others, I hate receiving it as I have mentioned before, have a hard time opening up. It takes a lot of trust and a lot of time for me to do so. So basically I give therapy to others meanwhile my mental health is blown to shit.

When it comes to work, I'm very organised and hard working. I don't like procrastination as it drives me nuts (Even though I still do it sometimes, idk why). I'm logical, focused and very passionate on the things I love. My favourite subjects are Math and Physics as I do fairly well in them. I'm not the best but I work hard and it pays off. That's why I'm opting for Aerospace Engineering in college. I take my work very seriously and definately not the type to fuck around.

Outdoors, I come off very cold and serious, but indoors I am very goofy, silly, pretty stubborn and bossy (sometimes stupid). I love doing small pranks and doing weird things that crosses my mind. I'm very loud and laugh at the stupidest things that I see or hear. Also love to play around with my pet cats. I'm a huge geek/nerd and love to talk about my hyper-fixations. Also, I'm a huge animal person and I love to feed strays and sometimes, I take them home with me. 😄

I'm very loyal but I can cut ties with people who have done me wrong. 100% has no problem in confronting people. I also suffer from ADHD, PTSD and mild depression. I also have stims where I bite the inside of my cheek or fidget my fingers or shake my legs.

Likes/Interests/hobbies: video games, reading books, writing, drawing, cooking, baking, watching murder documentaries, taking care of animals, horror, sci fi and action movies, tea, spicy food, rain, gardening, math, science, literature, history, travelling, listening to music.

My type in a partner:

Should be very passionate

Hard working, wise, mature and adventurous

Someone whom I can banter with and make me feel secure

Can be extroverted, introverted or ambiverted.

Can be on the playful side.

Alejandro Vargas (a/n @queenof-spades WE LOVE WOMEN IN STEM!! also girl I relate so hard to the conservative parents who push you to be the best :') good luck with all your studies!)

How you met: A trip to an aerospace engineering company was not on Alejandro's bucket list for the year. Especially after the last contracted company they dealt with (he's still getting his base in order after the fiasco of Graves and the Shadows). However, another joint mission with the 141 required a preview of some new satellites and other multimillion dollar technologies. After going through rigorous amounts of security, him and Rudy finally met up with the 141. "Nice to see you again, hermanos," he said as he shook hands with his British counterparts. They were making small conversation when you walked in. Your shoes echoed in the facility and a long lab coat hung around your shoulders. "Gentleman, welcome to Boeing. I'm the lead scientist here and you can follow me on a tour of the facilities," you said confidently and quickly turned to lead them through the expansive company. As you introduced them to the team of engineers and showed them the technologies of your newest satellites, they stood in awe. "This satellite is equipped with the best monitoring technologies and can withstand the temperatures of exiting and entering the atmosphere," you described as you jokingly pounded on the hard metal shell of the satellite. "She does not fuck around," you heard Alejandro whisper and the group laughed in response. "That's right Colonel Vargas, there's a reason I'm working here at Boeing and worked my ass off for a doctorate," you smirked at him. As you continued on, the blush was evident on his face as he felt like he was struck by cupid's arrow.

A peek into your relationship: It was no denying your relationship with Alejandro was difficult. Between his position as Colonel and yours as the head scientist at Boeing, you both wracked up thousands of miles on business flights. However you made it work and were now comfortably settled in a comfortable south western mansion that offered you excellent wifi for meetings. You signed off from a consulting meeting with a new company that wanted to contract your planes and sighed as you shut your laptop. The last few days you were on edge and your husband took notice as you declined his offer for wine and gently pushed your food around. "Mi corazon, what's going on?" he asked as he got up from the table and kissed your head gently. "Just work things," you sighed as you melted into his touch. "You love work through, there's something else going on," he said and carried you to the couch, "you even turned down a glass of our favorite wine." As he studied your face intently, you asked him a surprising question. "Ale, do you love me?" you asked. It took him 0.2 seconds to respond. "Are you joking? Of course I love you, you are my moon and stars. You are like if the heavens sent me a goddess to walk on earth. You are Persephone, Aphrodite, and Athena all rolled into one," he exclaimed as he peppered you with kisses. You smiled slightly and nervously held his hands. "I, um didn't know how to say this but I'm pregnant," you said quickly and looked at his face for any sign of anger or disappointment. You had kept this from him so long as you didn't want it to affect his opinion on your work and traveling so often. You weren't about to be confined to a house wife position after all this time. Instead of a negative reaction, he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around. He held you stomach as he kissed it gently and whispered, "my own child, you're going to have the best parents." As he pulled you in a tight hug and kissed you softly, he was already designing plans for their nursery and how to encompass everything you both loved into it. (Just know that this child will be absolutely spoiled by you too, especially if Ale became a girl dad HAHA)