#he did gained the music lover trait today

[nitrozem]

Ludovic Gunnar or Ludo, yeah I was thinking about Labyrinth at the time lol

His traits are snob, neat and perfectionist so he's just so DELIGHTFUL to deal with 😬 Tina's words, not mine

I actually made this character way back but I lost his tray files >> Decided to remake him (I initially tried that when I make Miguel and Ethel around the release of For Rent but I wasn't feeling it) He turned out much better this time.

I wanted to do more with Tina (Tobias's sister) and I figured I'd have your room with Ludo and attempt to hook them up because they're complete opposites and tbh those are my favorite types of couple. (Miguel and Kimiko!)

That and I haven't tried the doctor career yet and he's suppose to be a doctor sooo...yeah!

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[wherebutterfliesneverdie13ghosts]

V. The Change and Desire

A/N: Here we go. Chapter five of Where Butterflies Never Die. I am so sorry for the wait. I have been having a hard time with inspiration recently, but I have been listening to music and then boom! While I was at work, I had an idea.

I realize that Royce’s temper is heavily hinted upon in his ghost file, so it was obviously a dominant trait of his personality. Which got me to thinking. What about Emily? Someone who is genuinely sweet and shy. With a sister like Emilia, she must be repressing some deeply rooted anger.

And I am not going to lie, I kind of want to give Emily a villain era.

RATED E for everyone. There is gooey sweetness.

Emily, Emily, Emily Has the murmuring sound of May All silver bells, coral shells, carousels And the laughter of children at play

Say Emily, Emily, Emily And we fade to a marvelous view Two lovers alone and out of sight Seeing images in the firelight As my eyes visualize a family They see Emily, Emily

Emily Frank Sinatra

April 10th, 1956 Pauly’s Diner

Emily grinned when she felt tiny arms hug her waist and cast her eyes down to see Elizabeth Clayton’s sapphire orbs gleaming up at her. Despite Emily’s own 5’1” stature, she easily bent down and scooped the soon to be six-year-old girl off the floor and into her arms, pressing a sweet kiss to her icy blonde curls.

“Bonjour ma petit.”

“Bonjour Emily.”

The bell on the door of the diner gave its telltale chime and both girls looked up to see Royce step through the door, his eyes locking on them before he strolled over. Even if it was only a second, Emily did not miss the way Royce’s eyes had swept from her head and down to her toes, lingering on certain aspects of her figure before locking back on hers.

Pleasant heat spread through her being and the chimes along the patio outside of the diner started tinkling rapidly, filling the air with their song as the April breeze picked up outside. Her ability to absorb sound waves and convert them to energy would be a lot easier to manage if it wasn’t tied to every tiny shift in her mood. Or if she knew its limitations.

Focus Emily.

The friendly voice of her Familiar filled her ears and she shook her head lightly.

She took a deep breath and focused on calming down her racing heart. As soon as her emotions settled, the wind died down and no one seemed to have noticed anything had happened to begin with.

Very good. You’re getting better at controlling it.

I’m sixteen. I went through the change. I shouldn’t have to learn to control it at all.

You heard your mother. Even when she gained full access to Witchcraft at sixteen, she still struggled to control the one ability the Goddess specifically granted to her.

Royce doesn’t have these problems with his.

Royce is a boy, Emily. And on top of that, he is only a half-witch. One of the stronger half-witches I’ve seen, I’ll give him that, but he still doesn’t hold a candle to a full blooded one like you, your mother, your sister, and your father.

“Pan is talking to you, isn’t he?” Emily blinked and looked at Elizabeth, still perched in her arms. “I get that far off look in my eyes when Hatter and I talk to each other.”

She nuzzled her nose against Lizzie’s.

“What did you and your brother do today?”

“We played hide and seek!” she leaned closer, as if telling a secret, even though Royce could clearly hear her, anyway. “He’s not very good at it.”

“Hey!” Royce gripped his little sister gently and pulled her from Emily’s arms, tickling her sides. “That’s not very nice.”

Emily leaned her hip back against the counter, watching the interaction between her boyfriend and his little sister. From the moment Elizabeth was born, Royce was smitten. He loved being an older brother and doted on her constantly, getting her a new teddy bear or doll and taking her out for ice cream whenever she wanted now that he had a car.

“She’s right, you know,” Royce looked up at his girlfriend and cocked an eyebrow in question. “You are terrible at hide and seek.”

Royce stuck his tongue out at her.

Elizabeth hugged Hatter to her chest and stared triumphantly up at her older brother.

“See! I told you Emily would agree with me!” she then turned back to Emily. “I like your eyes by the way, Emily. The old one’s were pretty, and I know you probably miss them, but mama says it isn’t uncommon for a Witch’s eyes to change color when they fully come into their power.”

Emily sighed but smiled none the less. It was true. She did miss her old moss green eyes. But Hecate had decided that when Emily came into her power fully that her eyes would be purple and that was the end of it. You did not argue with the Goddess. It never ended well.

Luckily, Royce got to keep his beautiful icy blues.  

“Elizabeth convinced me to take her out for ice cream.”

Emily chuckled.

“By that, you mean she asked, and you folded like a paper airplane.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty.”

She shook her head and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before shooing him off to a table, throwing a wink at Elizabeth as she followed her brother, clutching his hand tightly.

“You know,” Becky materialized next to her at the counter, leaning on it. “If I was a stranger watching you two and Elizabeth, I’d think you were parents.”

She nudged Emily in the side.

“But luckily for you two, you look your age,” After a moment, Becky got a serious expression and reached out, tucking a piece of Emily’s black hair behind her ear. “How are you, bug? I hear the transformation to full Witch capability can be a little jarring.”

Emily looked at her friend.

“I feel different,” she chewed lightly on her thumb nail. “A constant thrum of energy is surging through my veins. Before the change, it was there but it wasn’t as noticeable. But this new ability? My ability? It’s a hair trigger. The slightest switch in my temperament and sound automatically converts to energy on its own accord. Just seeing Royce eyeing me made me set off the wind.”

She sighed.

“And then there’s the physical changes,” she lowered her voice. “My eyes.”

“Your hair.”

Emily looked at Becky in confusion.

“There’s more wave than curl,” she pulled a few strands up to study them. “And there is definitely more blue to it now than there was before.”

Emily chewed on her lip.

“I don’t feel like me anymore.”

Becky chuckled.

“The fact that you said that proves you are still you, Emmy,” she gripped her chin. “Stop overthinking everything and just enjoy the changes. There’s no going back now.”

Emily watched as her best friend flounced off and after a moment, she went over to a table that was flagging her down.

March Mansion 10 :00 Pm

Emily sat upon the medium-high wall of the porte-cochere. She felt like she was suffocating inside the house. Everyone was constantly pestering her about how she was feeling. How she was handling the change. She felt like she had answered the same question, phrased a thousand ways, at least seven hundred times. She just wanted her extended family to go back to England and France, respectively.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she looked up at her father.

Nicholas March was an imposing man with curled dirty blonde hair and intense dark blue-green eyes that contrasted heavily with his pale skin. He was well built with a delicate yet masculine face. He could be harsh and unforgiving to humans and to his fellow witches. But to his wife and daughters, he was soft as a marshmallow.

“I remember my sixteenth, you know,” he nudged her nose lightly with his index finger before gesturing forward with a “I can remember it like it was yesterday” expression. “Your great nan decided to bake a blueberry-chocolate cake, completely forgetting that I am deathly allergic to blueberries, mind you.”

Emily hid a chuckle as he paused.

“I spent the change in the A&E listening to my mum yell at her mum about blueberry cake,” he shook his head. “Completely overlooking the way the Doctors were eyeing me when my hair and eyes changed color.”

“Like magic.”

“Exactly, my darling,” he laughed. “I use to be a brunette with dark chocolate eyes.” He scrunched his nose. “This was quite a bit bigger, too. Can’t say I miss that.”

After a moment, Nicholas quieted down and his expression became more sympathetic as he gazed into nothing, remembering how lost he felt during his change.

“I know it’s overwhelming, little dove,” he rubbed her shoulder as he spoke. “You don’t look the same and you have more power than you know what to do with but that doesn’t alter who you are as a person.”

After a moment, he stood up.

“You have company.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before heading inside.

She did not have to look up to know who took a seat beside her. The steady thrum of Royce’s heart gave him away when he was at the end of the driveway. She leaned her head into his chest when he pulled her close.

“He’s right, you know.”

Royce nuzzled the top of her head with his nose, subtly inhaling the aroma that was uniquely Emily’s. After his change, his sense of smell had become much sharper, and he found that he could now identify the individual notes that made up Emily’s scent.

Starflower. Sandalwood. Sugared Tangelo. White Agarwood. Amber.

“Do I still smell the same?”

He chuckled against the crown of her head and nodded.

“Your eyes and hair may have changed but you’re still my Emily,” he tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “And I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you put up with me.”

“Stop.”

“I mean it, I’m egotistical, and bad tempered,” he could tell by the way her lips curved that he was reaching his intended goal. “I have gotten into six fights this week,” he held up a finger. “And it is not even Wednesday, Emily. We are two days in. Two!”

She burst into laughter, but he wasn’t done.

“I’m a nightmare, kitten, honestly-”

He was cut off by her lips. An odd sound he did not quite recognize escaped him when the tip of her tongue pressed against his bottom lip. He surrendered to it, tangling his fingers in her inky tresses as the pink organ stroked against his own.

“You may be a nightmare Royce Clayton but you’re mine,” a pleasant tremor ran up his spine as she tugged lightly on his lip with her teeth. Enough to sting but not truly hurt. “And I’d like to keep you.”

His icy blue eyes turned molten in the light of the moon as dark red energy pulsed under his skin at the possessiveness in her tone. Women could be worse than men in that department, it seemed. But his sweet Emily could claim dominion over his very soul if she wished it and he would submit.

“I’m all yours, doll.”

He took her lips in a hungry kiss.

A/N: I wrenched this chapter out of the bowels of my soul. And I think I’m living for the chaotic energy these two generate.

Reviews are appreciated as they feed the muse.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch8

A silence fell onto the three in the car. Those seemingly glowing red eyes calmly met her own worry filled purple ones. The fact that he was so calm in his reply was scary enough as it is but that's not what scared her most, it's the fact his answer was that nothing down there was free. Which meant he wanted something from her- He leaned forward slightly and held out a hand to her. "How about a story in exchange?" She stared back...Well, wasn't expecting that. He chuckled at the confusion on her face. "Oh come now. You can't blame me for being the tiniest bit curious, after all you only gave a small drabble to the entire tale?" "...E-Excatly what story?" She got a bad gut feeling at his laugh.

"Yours of course. I can't help but wonder how a pure little thing like you could possible anger a Goddess so much that you'd end up in a chaotic place like this." His smile widened as he saw the suspicious look on her face. "You can't blame me for asking. I have to know everything about the ones I employ, as an employer you should know that the ones I hire also reflect on my company." Her suspicious look faltered a bit. I mean, technically that was true. You wouldn't want to come back somewhere where you didn't like the people working there, and it didn't sound like he was anything but curious. Then again you could never know with things like this. Would something bad happen if she didn't say anything? Would it be unwise to say anything at all? Try to change the subject? Looking back to those blood red eyes, she decided to play It safe and go for something in the middle. "W-What's there to know?" She straightened up and attempted to brush it off like her death wasn't really anything important with a shrug. "My stupid consort killed the beloved pet of a God, he lost everything and I being the oh so engaged lady at the time got d-dragged into it all!" Whoops! Mistake one. Showing emotions. That last few words seemed to get some emotion into her. Because right now she was staring at the floor and it almost looked like she was about to cry. His brow rose and he hummed at the mixture of anger and sorrow in her features, well this was a surprise turn of events. Now wasn't it? It was interesting to see something other than just intimidation or fear on those little features. Don't get him wrong. It was glorious to see such traits he could mold to his use, but it would get tiring if he couldn't get some resistance out of her after all. Where would the fun be then or the glory? An easy win was nice but a rewarding one was much better satisfying.~ He calmly hummed and leaned back into his seat. A fake uninterest coming over him with a shrug. "Lots of lovers doom their spouses down here. It's a sad but common story amongst the crowd...but of course-" His eyes flashed an underlining tone. "Not many people can clam the tragity of the romantic tale gone wrong. Most go on with their new strengths gained from it." "I don't have anything like that." Mistake number two. Admitting you're weak in the presence of a stronger demon. She had just unintentionally admitted she wasn't very strong willed or at least didn't have much magic to begin with. Which was exactly what he was hoping she would say. Internally he smiled, but on the outside he gave a very convincing surprised look. To which cyber smiled and rolled her eyes at as she silently continued to watch play out. Oh Lou, such the actor. "On come now. Surely you must be mistaken. A thing like you must have some remarkable talent if you survived this long down here." Without looking up she just shrugged and leaned back into the seat. "Not really. All I can do is teleport and explode when Im scared enough, not like it's even useful." His smile slowly returned. "But...It has killed before? Right?" She shrugged again. "Only a few times, haven't been out long enough to keep count." Mistake number three. She had unintentionally made herself the target of another demon's sights. Whether or not dangerous doesn't matter. His smile came back in full swing. OH! What a naïve little delight this was, and WHAT a convenience for him. He would have to remember to thank whatever good luck sent this opportunity his way because this was more delicious than any drug he could possibly eat! Cyber must've been reading his thoughts because she smiled along with the obvious thought plastered all over his face. POWER!! He could gain control over the entire neighborhood with this new tool by his side, all those angry faces of the ones who dared to ever threaten him, turning into ones of fear. Begging for mercy before they would be forever be turned into piles of DUST!! "Lou?" His attention was snapped back to the smaller demon next to him who was nudging him in his side. Cyber nodded her head towards the open car door and he realized they had stopped driving. "We're home." ******************************************************************************* Music blared about around the club and idiots danced and partied to it. He never really did like the whole setting of drunken morons dancing or the flashy lights, or the shady looking people in the corner who would stop and stare you down if you even looked like if you were eaves dropping on your conversations. But the pay was good and his husband worked here. So in some ways the pros outweighed the cons in his opinion, but being Rita's little errand runner all the time definitely wasn't what he signed up for when he agreed to this whole manager position. And he also ran into his most hated person in hell so now that made his day a million times worse. They carried the bags through the tight nit crowd and towards the employee's only door behind the bar. The door was pushed open and the two made their way in. "It's about time you two showed up. What took you so long?" "Shut up, Jasper! I had enough of today as it is." He growled to the lazy demon laying on the lounge's couch and headed towards the table in the corner. Throwing the bags onto it and heading to the employee's fridge above it. His partner being more cool headed watched with a raised brow as Charles helped himself to the canned ice tea in the back. At least he wouldn't have to worry about him getting drunk and angry today. "What crawled up your skull and died this time?" "Can it, Jasper. He's not in the mood." The demon mumbled 'When is he ever' but sank back down into the couch, rolling his eyes, he glanced back to Charles who was downing one of the tea cans. "Babe. Take it easy on those. Last time you spit some out of your eye socket." The can was slammed back to the table and the ghost skeleton slumped onto the table. "I can't help it. You know what I think about him. I don't care what Rita says, Im going to kill him one of these days." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Him who? He paused and looked around. Ans smiled. "Well speak of the demoness. Hiya Bosslady." The small lady standing there gave them both a raised brow and he shrugged and leaned back onto the table. "Got your stuff. Don't mind the 'extra baggage' we brought along." Rita smiled amused at him and sashayed her way over to his side, grabbing one of the bags as she did and bringing it down to peer inside. "I trust there wasn't any trouble?" "No." "Yes!" She peered back up at Charles with a questioning look and he gave a small growl. "Horrible wilted leaf." "Oh, it's just Lou again." She tutted and looked back to the bag in her grip. Honestly Charles could be such a drama queen about the whole thing. Even just mentioning the plant demon around him was enough to- excuse the term- rattle his bones for the rest of the week. Which happened fairly often if she wasn't mistaken. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time than just mope on him?" "She's right. Cheer up, Baby." He gave the skeleton a playful shove which earned him an annoyed glare. "Oh come on.~ Don't be like that. Could be worse. You could've ended up with a furry fetish like plant boy." That one earned him a couple chuckles from his husband finally, making him smile wider. "See! I knew you could do it." "Furry fetish?" Rita gave him a questioning look before chuckling and pulling one of the more expensive looking clothes out of her bag. "So he finally convinced...oh what's her name- Midnight to fall for him. Heh. Ever persistant." "No actually...Well I don't know, but that's not what I was talking about." Rita giving him a 'What do you mean' look made him shrug before continuing. "Looks like he got a new toy ta mess with. Don't know what he's gonna do this time though. Mostly horse around. hehe." "Really?" Interest peeked in her voice. Well of course this wasn't any of her business, the opportunity to snoop around and get a leg up on her frenemy-.....rival was always too good to pass up. Besides, it was always fun to tease him and get under his skin given the chance. A smile curled on her lips. "Oh. Well he wanted an answer from me anyways. Maybe it's time I do a little wellness check on his place." "Are you sure it's just not to see the lovebug-" "SHUT UP, JASPER!!"

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[phantom-of-nrc]

Hi, may i get a Twisted Wonderland matchup please?

I'm 5'6, virgo, infp, true neutral and my pronouns are she/her.

I have a dark skin tone, long purple hair, freckles on the cheeks and brown eyes. I can be both introverted and extroverted, it depends on the person I'm interacting with, for example with my friends i'm always cheerful, but with strangers i'm usually quiet and shy. I have a sarcastic sense of humor and i'm pretty chill in general; i'm also super clingy and i love giving hugs!

Another thing is that i don't have self esteem at all and i'm always negative about myself, buuut i'm trying to be more confident and positive, even if it's pretty difficult. I am never motivated to do anything, and when i have something important to do i always do it at the last minute, that's another bad habit that i should fix. I consider myself a good listener, and i'm happy to help the people i care about with they're issues, or cheer them up when they're sad, with good advices and a lot of affection. I really dislike crowded places, loud people and being the centre of attention; I also tend to overthink, and i daydream quite a lot. My main hobbies are napping, drawing, wasting time on social media and playing video games. Random things i like: sweets, pastel colors, listening to music 24/7, telling jokes (especially bad ones), drawing on rainy days and headpats. Sorry for the messy description, thank you very much for the matchup!!💞

-🎀

ℌ𝔬𝔴 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔢?

🍀 Well, well! Looks like you’ve got the resident smug trickster big brother of Heartslabyul! You like sweets? Our dear Clover is just the right person for you! Riddle does rely on him whenever Unbirthday parties, tea parties and similar occasions that come up! As a bonus, *pats Trey’s head* this closet chaotic big brother of little siblings and Heartslabyul comes from a family that owns a bakery!

🍀 You like headpats? He’ll give you headpats. Now that I think about it.. You two might seem like one of those cute manga couples I see in Pinterest at first glance.. Being clingy and having a fondness for hugs, Trey wouldn’t mind it! He finds this trait of yours cute. Aren’t you two just a cute fluffy couple? Just make sure to prepare for Trappola’s teasing and Rook’s monologues of your beautiful relationship with Trey. The hunter’s bound to see your loving cuddle sessions and cute bonding moments with the Vice Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul.. Consider yourself dubbed as the Maiden of Roses by Rook! (In French, of course! One cannot trust shady translators...)

🍀 You like telling jokes? Trey likes to joke too! Except.. People tend to take him seriously when he was just joking.. Or is he..? The two of you are like.. The embodiment of types of bad jokes. Him being like the representative of jokes that just seems serious that people take him seriously and you being the representative of bad jokes that are bound to lure a fond smile from Trey’s lips. He can’t help it. You’re just so wholesome to him, especially when you tell bad jokes!

🍀 Of course, Trey is bound to find your hobby for drawing, especially once rain has decided to come and grace NRC with its presence. Trust me when I say, he’ll be curious of all the drawings you’ve drawn. However, the choice to show him your works or not is entirely up to you, whether you’re comfortable or not! If you decided to show him your drawings, he’d be delighted! He’d talk about your drawings with you, perhaps share some memories of his little siblings that drew for him back then. Perhaps one day, you’d be drawing something for Trey with the help of his little siblings.. If you’re comfortable with it, of course! If you’re not comfortable with showing your drawings, it’s alright!

🍀 Sarcastic sense of humor? Trey would definitely enjoy that! Perhaps it might lead to a light-hearted teasing between lovers! You’re napping? There comes our beloved Trey! He’d offer his uniform jacket/coat as a blanket for you, carry you somewhere more comfortable or just make sure you’re napping comfortably in general.

🍀 Seeing that you’ve mentioned about having no self-esteem, trying to gain confidence (honestly, we’re on the same boat in this one. Cheers!) Trey would be there by your side, helping you in your journey of finding your confidence! He’d be there to offer words of encouragements, give you a gentle nudge to take a step forward to finding confidence in yourself. Trey would be there for you in every step. Have faith in yourself, you’re worthy and you’re beautiful! Trey thinks so too. If you ever say anything negative about yourself, Trey would be there to say otherwise!

🍀 A bad habit of procrastination? That won’t do.. Whenever Trey catches you unmotivated, he’d try to provide motivation for you! How about once you finish the activity you’re supposed to do, he’d bake you something? What would you like? A pie? A tart? Make sure to brush your teeth afterwards though!

🍀 Trey wouldn’t really mind your dislike in crowds, loudness and being the center of attention. If anything, once he notices your discomfort, he’d try to excuse the two of you out of the area. Heartslabyul can be very lively with the parties.

🍀 Your caring and helpful nature would earn you a reputation as the mama or big sister figure among the people close to you, perhaps it wouldn’t be long until you and Trey would earn the reputation of fluffy couple.. Expect Ace Trappola to make a remark on how the two of you act like a happy married couple—

🍀 You being a Virgo and Trey being a Scorpio is a plus. Virgos and Scorpios are compatible!

𝔐𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤:

The Rose Kingdom. That was where the two of you had met. In his homeland.

  Whether a tourist or a local in his hometown, there was one thing that you’re sure of. The craving for something sweet. The sky above was clear and blue as the sun casted its warmth upon the world. It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. The weather was perfect. It seems like today would be a good day to search for something to eat. And so, you set on a small journey to find either a bakery or a candy shop to buy sweets. 

  It didn’t take long until the smell of freshly baked pastries reached your sense of smell, beckoning you to find the source of the smell. And so you did. Following the smell of freshly-baked pastries, you found yourself in front of a cake shop. Looking through the windows of the cake shop, you found your craving for sweets grow stronger. The sweet smell of freshly-baked pastries matched the pleasing presentation of each baked products. From tarts to cakes, they all looked delicious. 

  Entering the cake shop, you found yourself walking towards the counter. There, you found an ivy-green haired man, his mustard yellow eyes locking with your brown eyes. A welcoming smile reached his lips as he welcomed you to his family’s cake shop.

“Welcome! Is there anything you’d like to order?”

Romance will soon bloom like a beautiful rose, and it’s all thanks to your shared affinity for sweets. To the smell of his baked pastries that beckoned your curiosity and craving.

[jamesginortonblog]

"More than just being a warm, affable, effusive and generous man, Stephen was also peculiar. He was eccentric. He had a sinister side and a sad side to him, and that makes for an interesting character to play, with all his vulnerability and layers."

James Norton

What was it about Amanda Coe’s scripts that made you want to take on this role?

I was lucky enough to work with Amanda Coe on a previous project called Life In Squares, which was about the Bloomsbury set and had a similar biopic feel about it. I loved that job and had an amazing time playing Duncan Grant, who oddly has certain similarities to Stephen Ward. There’s a certain warmth and lust for life which they both shared.

Working with Amanda on that job was a complete pleasure, and one knows that when you have that much of a good time on a job it’s because of the quality of the writing. So when I heard that Amanda was writing this, and then the scripts landed on my desk, I knew already that I was in for a treat. As far as the project and tone itself, I guess what makes this show unique is that it is from Christine’s point of view. That makes it special and very timely. It’s no secret that she had various incarnations of her story and it became quite confusing and hard to pin down the final truth. So to have Amanda’s thorough intensive research and work, (she is so attentive and so knowledgeable about the period), but also having a personal angle from Christine, it all makes for a very special script.

What was it about Stephen Ward that attracted you to the part, and do you think this drama will show Ward in a different light?

Playing Stephen and having the opportunity to delve into this man’s mind was the key draw for me for this project. There are extraordinary people involved in this story and I think if you were to meet Stephen Ward now you would be entirely seduced by him and want more of his company. Being in Stephen’s presence was a treat, and something his friends really hankered after once they’d had a taste of it. But, more than just being a warm, affable, effusive and generous man, Stephen was also peculiar, and those are the most interesting people to play. Stephen was eccentric but he also had a sinister and sad side to him and that again makes for an interesting character to play, with all his vulnerability and layers.

What sort of man was he?

One can’t escape the fact that he did groom young women, and that is inexcusable. But why did he do that, and what it did for him is also what's interesting. I could talk about Stephen for hours, but in one of the very first rehearsals Andrea the director really piqued my interest by saying, in her opinion, the heart of Stephen Ward is his obsession with female power. His voyeurism and peculiar sexual appetite are the things that make him this fascinating, weird and unique man. His was a fascination with femininity.

Some would argue that Stephen’s actions actually removed the girls’ power, but perhaps he was empowering them? Do you agree?

Often in dramas, people are very quick to categorise their characters as a way of simplifying things. So you have the hero and the villain and the lover and the victim. The thing about Stephen is that he is, like everyone, in that grey messy area in between. There is no doubt that he did manipulate young girls like Christine and Mandy, and part of it was for his own gain: he was a social climber and he was always hankering after acceptance and being allowed into the Gentleman’s Club. His ticket wasn’t his heritage or his money, it was partly his talent as an osteopath and his career.

He was also known as a man about town, and everyone knew that at Stephen’s house there would be parties and young women and a good time. So, on the one hand you have that slightly manipulative and more sinister side to him, but then on the other hand there is this incredible warmth and generosity of spirit - a man that Amanda has really found in the pen. A paternal man, a loving man who wanted the best for people and saw the best in people, and that’s such a key trait that we often don’t see enough of. He gave people the benefit of the doubt. Most of these women would have been rejected by society, but Stephen, for better or for worse, recruited them and found the best in them and empowered them. It’s a complicated dilemma as on the one hand it was exploitation but on the other it was empowerment.

Can you set the scene as the scandal unfolded? It seems like it was the perfect storm.

It’s 1963 and the counterculture revolution was happening, and there was a tremendous clash of temperament and attitude. Stephen, Christine and Mandy were in the middle of that storm. What makes Stephen so admirable and exciting is that he was a trailblazer. He was brave and individual enough to know whom he was and express himself from a very early age. There is this wonderful line where he says to Christine: "You know I’ve always lived the way I want to live, and you can too little baby. You just have to keep to the odd rule, but as long as you know who you are, and have the confidence to express yourself, then go for it.”

That type of motivation is so seductive and empowering. I think a culture like we have today would have allowed Stephen to be himself. He was born in the wrong time and his expression and sense of individuality was deeply frowned upon and ultimately stamped out. When you have that clash and conflict in society it makes such an interesting context for any story and within that conflict and cultural war zone, Stephen is on the front line.

Did you do a lot of your own research for this part? Did you feel a greater sense of responsibility in playing a real life part?

There is always a responsibility when you play a real person. Not only do you have the responsibility to the family and friends who knew Stephen Ward, but you also have, most importantly, responsibility to him. There are many accounts of Stephen’s character in the public domain, but as an actor you have to find whatever shared ground you and the character have in order to make the portrayal real and authentic.

A lot of information about Stephen is still locked up for some reason - the government hasn't come to share it with the public yet and no one knows why, but there are enough books out there on him that helped me formulate a sense of him. Production created this incredible pack that was so informative. It helped me to get a slight sense of the individual and the unique tone and temperament he had.

I always say that as an actor you have a responsibility to love the person you’re playing. You have to find true empathy, otherwise you will always stand slightly outside of their actions and you won't ever be able to fully invest in their choices. That is what has been so exciting for me. With all the accounts, and the letters that he wrote and the transcripts of the conversations he had, there is a version of this man’s soul, but it’s always slightly out of reach.

What is the relationship between Stephen Ward and Christine Keeler?

When Stephen meets Christine she is 17, has just moved to London and is working in Murray’s Jazz & Cabaret Club. When Stephen arrives in her life Christine’s assumption is that he is a sugar daddy, and of course he is not, he is something entirely different and that is what initially draws Christine to him. It’s partly to do with his self-promotion into the society that he aspires to be a part of, but there is a paternal element to him, particularly where Christine is concerned.

Christine always maintained they never had a sexual relationship, yet he found something extraordinarily endearing and majestic about her, and that’s essentially the foundation for this whole story. It’s what he sees in her when she is this young 17 year-old - she has a power and femininity which she exudes, which he wants to be a part of. It’s such an extraordinary and complex relationship to excavate, and that's what actors crave!

Why is now the right time to tell this story from Christine’s point of view?

It makes total sense for this story to be told from Christine’s point of view. We know what it was like to be a man in the 1960s. We know all about the old boys' clubs, but we don’t know what it was like for a young woman. She was part victim, part trailblazer and an icon of the 1960s. She ultimately was a victim of men like Stephen Ward and John Profumo, who exploited a teenage girl into having sex.

This is a story about a young woman who is the catalyst for change, and so it has to be from her point of view and it has to be told by women. We have an almost entirely female crew - our writer, director, producer, executive producer, costume designer and hair and make-up designer are all women and it’s completely intuitive and completely makes sense. This is an iconic story about a young woman told from a female point of view as it should be, led by women and it is a wonderful thing. I’m immensely proud to be part of this and to be telling Christine’s story from her point of view in an uncomplicated and honest way.

This story is about a very British scandal, but how does a story like this travel?

Britain at that time was very much at the centre of a cultural revolution. People care about our cultural heritage, our music, film and storytelling and fashion. I think the reason this story continues to intrigue people is that these types of scandals like Watergate or Marilyn Monroe and the Kennedys, or the Profumo /Keeler scandal were all events that changed the course of history and they always make for the most interesting viewing.

[anodyne-sunflower]

The Yearbook (Part 2)-High School series

A/N: It’s here! Part 2, turtle doves. I love writing this stupid fic, all because I had a whack ass dream about Balem being a dick to Newt in school…oy. Anyway, I know Marius has an English accent lol but for drama sake, he’s got a French one in this. Use your imagination. Also, if you requested to be a teacher in this, I will slowly (try) to introduce you. That being said, I’m not basing any of their actions off y’alls personality. That’s too much work, and I’m lazy…cut me a break. So, it’s name only haha. Enjoy!

MOOD MUSIC: Feel it still by Portugal. The Man

***

You threw your backpack onto the table, pulling out a chair and taking a seat as you looked around the almost empty library. No other students plagued the aisles of books, or extended their stay on the empty computer desks. It was how you enjoyed the library, quiet and devoid of all other life. Save for your best friend, who was busy burying his nose into another wildlife book to pay much attention to your topic of conversation.

“Newt!”

The freckled boy glanced up, blinking at you stupidly before smiling. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Never mind…” You sighed into your jacket sleeve, restlessly leaning back and forth in your chair as you watched the clock tick by. School wasn’t entirely awful, but in the realm of activities, you’d much rather be sleeping at this ungodly hour. “I am not looking forward to drama class. Why is that even important? I have no use for acting classes…”

“Perhaps you should’ve taken biology.” Newt mumbled nonchalantly, flipping the page and highlighting parts he found particularly interesting.

“I am, but…wait,” You fell forward into the table, hands slamming into the surface and scaring the other student from his reverie of animals. “Did you not sign up for drama class? First period? With Ms. Derboven…?”

Newt stared pathetically at you, a sudden dark cloud emerging over his messy head of hair. You knew that look all too well, you had been victim to it many times in your friendship. That guilty smile, that nervous laugh…it was just another blow to your already annoyed mood.

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander,” you threatened between gritted teeth, leaning closer to your friend. Your proximity caused a flush of red to sweep along his cheeks, and he lifted his book to cover the obvious sign of nervousness. “So help me god if you didn’t-“

“I swear it was not intentional…” he attempted to soothe your anger, still keeping that sheepish grin on his features. He assumed it would make it all go away, as it usually did. But, you only glared deeply at him, getting closer until your noses were touching and he had no choice but to sit silent and listen. Not that it was difficult for him, your perfume and entrancing eyes were enough to gain his focus.

“Newt, I don’t want to take that class alone! They say the teacher is eccentric and expects you to perform for her the very first day! I don’t know how to act! I’m not even sure I know how to create art…I’m gonna die…that’s it…my social life is now null and void and I will forever be known as the girl who fucked up her monologue.”

“That’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?” Newt cleared his throat, taking his chance to move away from you while you wallowed in your self pity.

“What’s dramatic is leaving your best friend to endure a full hour and a half of drama class.” Perhaps you were being a bit of a whiner, but facing courses without anyone you knew was always a rough situation. One you didn’t want to deal with senior year.

“I don’t believe dramatic fits that sentence-“

“There you are, Newt!”

The two of you looked up, your eyes falling upon a young man running over to you both. He was dressed like a complete hipster, one you’d find on some Instagram post about charcoal ice cream or what not. His fedora tilted sloppily to the side, giving him a very relaxed look that was only overshadowed by his striking red hair. He certainly knew how to gain attention.

“Oh, hello…” Newt dropped his book to the table, watching as this boy took a seat next to him and began going on about money and drawings. None of it made sense to you, and you sat there completely befuddled by his sudden appearance.

“So, I kind of need the money now…any chance you can pay?” The red head held his hand out, a huge smile on his face when Newt fished through his pockets and handed him some crumpled up bills.

“That should be sufficient.”

“Thank you, I need new supplies…”

“Um,” You interjected, nudging Newt on the arm to introduce you to this new kid. He looked faintly familiar, but it was hard to forget someone with his looks and hair. So you imagined he didn’t make a huge impression the first time, if you ever met him before that is. “Newt?”

Newt, glad for the distraction from your anger, held his hand out towards the red head and quickly blurted out an introduction. As if he didn’t really see the point in doing so. “That’s Jack. He offered to do some drawings for my book I’m writing.”

It dawned on you then, the red hair, the somewhat messy tie. You had seen him before, he was a frequent flyer in the principal’s office, although his offenses were of a lesser degree than the resident bad boy, Eddie. “You’re the one who makes those really amazing murals, right? On the gymnasium, and men’s bathroom!”

Jack hadn’t been paying much attention to you or Newt, he was busy counting the money and figuring out what to purchase with it. But, the moment your melodic voice hit his ears, he nearly froze in his actions. With a surprised expression he glanced up, green eyes widening when he saw you. He could count on one hand the number of girls he found attractive at this school, because the fact was, you were the only one he found charming. Every other girl was so caught up in their looks or social lives it grated on his nerves. There was something refreshing about you though, a trait he wasn’t yet knowledgeable about but, he felt it.

You pursed your lips, eyeing him strangely while he just stared. The silence built to a level that even gained Newt’s attention, and with a curious glance he turned to his friend.

“Jack-“

Before he could get another word out, Jack leaned forward, a glint of wonder in his eyes as he looked you over. “Can I draw you?”

It was an odd request, one you didn’t expect to receive today. To say you were flattered though, would be an understatement. A soft blush formed on your features, a smile curling along your lips as you giggled nervously. “I, uh-“

Newt watched the exchange, somewhat annoyed, but otherwise keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t care for the way Jack looked at you, it was reminiscent to the way you eyed Stephen earlier. A hint of arousal, and longing that only made the animal lover jealous. Try as he might, Newt wasn’t very adept at burying his feelings. “Stop asking everyone to let you draw them.”

“How else am I supposed to practice?”

“Perhaps you should do your art assignments.”

“What a waste of time. Art isn’t something you can schedule or direct…” The entire time he spoke, his eyes fixated on you and only you. It was as if he was already sketching you into his mind, taking every lovely detail and canvassing it into his memories. “It has to be free, spontaneous…”

There was something in the way he spoke that made your heart flutter, like the very passion he conveyed could be felt in his words. It was mesmerizing, and you nearly toppled into his spell if not for Newt interrupting him.

“Jack,” It was when he reached out to touch you that Newt had enough, and with a sigh he held his book up, blocking the artist’s wandering hand. “Sorry, but shouldn’t you finish your painting in the gym?”

The switch went off in Jack’s head, and he rose quickly from his chair, giving a quick farewell before taking off in a rush towards the doors. You smiled at him, a thoughtful look on your face when you considered your observation carefully.

“You know,” you paused, eyes following the retreating back of the talented student. “If it wasn’t for the red hair, I’d say he could be your twin, Newt.”

Newt glanced up from his book, blinking at you skeptically before looking towards Jack. He raised his eyebrow for a second, before pursing his lips and scoffing at the notion. “Absolutely not.”

Before you could think of a single snappy remark, the bell rang, indicating the next five minutes should be spent getting to class. An audible groan flew from your lips, the dread of drama class becoming far too real now. You wanted to drag Newt along with you, but taking him from his beloved science classes was too cruel to entertain.

“Would you like me to accompany you there?”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll survive.”

Newt felt awful about the change in classes, but his counselor was adamant he take courses geared towards his interests. It would help in college, and he had to admit it was a smarter plan than wasting his time watching the drama kids reenact their favorite Shakespeare play.

“If you say so, Y/N…”

You hummed back to him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and sending a wave of goodbye as you walked out the library and into your horrible hour and a half fate. The walk to first period was uneventful, save for the nasty look some girl gave you. You weren’t aware of her dispute with you, but the faint whisper of ‘Balem’ was heard as you passed by. If you were to venture a guess, she was not overly fond of the way you interacted with him this morning. Every girl here was swooning over the rich man, constantly leaving letters in his locker or on his windshield. It was a dim-witted attempt to get his attention, but he rarely ever read the love notes. On one occasion you even saw him use his wipers to release the perfume scented letters from his precious car. Yet, in spite of his cruelty, they still flocked to him like moths to a flame.

“Ow!” The rough material of someone’s jacket pushed into your forehead, making you flinch back and grumble about small hallways. Why Balem’s mother couldn’t pull her purse strings for a bigger building was beyond you. “Watch it!”

“Easy there, darlin’.” An amused chuckle was all you needed to realize who it was, and you reluctantly moved your hand away. View now obscured by the devilish grin of Eddie Kreezer. “Where you off to in a hurry?” He was already pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lighter hidden in his cowboy hat as the staff walked by. You envied his devil may care attitude, but you didn’t need to be caught with him today.

“To class, you idiot. Where you should be going.”

“Tsk, didn’t your momma ever teach you to be nice?” He teased, lighting his smoke and blowing some of it into your face.

“You’re one to talk!”

Eddie was always amused at your temper, but that was due to him being one of the few people who could bring out that spark of anger. It was amusing and quite frankly, hot to him. “Damn, sweetheart. What? Daddy didn’t love you enough as a kid? Is that where all this misdirected rage comes from?” He laughed heartily, pushing one finger into your forehead to keep you away as you launched your fists at him. It was a weak attempt to defend yourself, and it only made the cowboy laugh harder until you gave up. “I’ll be your daddy if you want.” He had the gall to wink, to flirt amidst all this teasing like you were just going to cave under his southern wiles. It fueled that fire of fury inside you, and admittedly was just a bit charming…which only made you angrier.

“You-“

“Ah, ah, ah!” Eddie easily trapped you into the lockers, smirking down at your expression of discontent. “Daddy don’t like the attitude, darlin’.”

The last straw, that was it, and with all your strength you kneed Eddie in the stomach, taking his momentary lapse of judgement as a sign to run away. The last bell had rung, and with the halls now clearing you took the chance to turn back to him, hands balled into fists as you yelled, “And for the record you’re too young to be a daddy!”

The cowboy glanced up, a huge smirk now forming on his lips as he laughed. You figured he’d finally lost it, the recreational use of drugs eventually killing off his last brain cells. That was until you heard your name, a huge blush going head to toe when you realized who was behind you. With a stiff posture, you turned, growing redder when Stephen came into view. He looked confused, green eyes darting from you to Eddie with a hint of worry.

“Are you alright?”

“I-“ you couldn’t form a proper sentence, and in your embarrassment the only helpful thought that came was to run off into the halls. So with a quick mumble of farewell, you brushed passed the athlete and somehow found your way to the theatre. Life could be dramatically unfair sometimes, and having to say such a stupid thing in front of your crush was probably on the top ten list of don’ts. Lamenting over your actions did no good though, and with a troubled scoff you slowly opened the drama room doors. All eyes fell on you then, the piercing ones of your teacher among them. It sent chills up your spine, and even though they all saw you, you still attempted to sneak across the stools lined up to the stage.

“How good of you to join us.”

You fell into the stool, trying to ignore Ms. Derboven’s irritated glare. Thankfully, another student began to sing softly on stage, taking her attention elsewhere. She was positively thrilled when the student sang, like the world was suddenly brighter for it. In your mind, it was a simple distraction, but the pining sighs of women made you finally look towards the center of the auditorium. A tall, handsome student was on stage, crooning out his rendition of a Les Miserables song. Something about empty chairs and tables, not that you knew any of it, musicals weren’t exactly your hobby. But, you welcomed the talent he displayed. If only to have your teacher preoccupy herself with his enchanting voice.

“Isn’t he charming?”

You sank back into the air, trying not to fall from your stool as this girl leaned far too close to you. She had pretty green eyes, her blonde hair set into intricate curls that seemed to have taken hours to do. You didn’t recognize her from anywhere, and with a French accent you wondered if she had any relation to the new boy singing up there.

“Um-”

“Oh, no need to answer. I already know you agree.”

She giggled, hand on her cheek as she sighed happily while eyeing the handsome student on the stage. Drama wasn’t your forte, and if it wasn’t for the insane obligation to take an elective you’d be far from here. But, you humored her affections, eyes darting towards the stage and watching as the other French student recited his lines. He was rather talented at it, even more when he broke into song again. Even if that made it feel awkward to be in here. All the girls, and possibly even the teacher seemed entranced by his voice now, like he suddenly became the first male siren in history.

In your musings, you hadn’t realized he stopped, all the girls clapping and cheering their hearts out to him. Some of the boys reluctantly did so, more than one of them grumbling about how unfair it was to have so many good looking guys at this school. You had to agree there, lately it seemed like an abundance of them came crawling from out of the woodwork. With a defeated breath, you started clapping along as well, looking towards the clock on the wall and praying it would move faster. At least this new kid took up a good chunk of time for you.

“Come on…” you pleaded silently with the clock, as if that would somehow aid your impatience.

“Cosette, would you like a turn?”

You watched as the girl you were speaking to got up, clearly the one known as Cosette. She clapped happily, getting off the stool and heading to the stage to begin her own monologue. You envied her bravery, but the puppy love look on her face made you roll your eyes. She had it bad for that other guy, and judging by his smile he seemed somewhat interested in her in return.

“May I sit here?”

His French accent was enamoring, but you weren’t about to fall head over heels just because he seemed exotic.

“Sure.”

“Thank you.” He smiled politely, eyes constantly moving to look at you. “I’m Marius Pontmercy, and you are?”

At his greeting, you turned to him, offering a smile as you held your hand out to shake his. Only he seemed more intent on being a true gentleman. With a delicate touch he took your hand, twisting it around and laying a sweet kiss to the back of it. The French truly did inspire romance…

“I’m…um,” The words would not come out, and unfortunately making a fool of yourself seemed to be a reoccurring theme this school year.

“Won’t you tell me?” Marius smiled widely, chuckling when you looked away from him. You seemed on edge, and he had no intention to make it worse for you. “It’s alright if you wish-“

“Y/N.” You spat it out harshly, your nerves making you agitated enough to seem rude. Lucky for you, Marius took no offense to your curt tone.

“It’s a beautiful name…” He said quietly, eyes transfixed on you from the start.

There was a notable tension in the air, one that confused you greatly. But, the longer he gazed into your eyes the more you felt your chest cave to the attractive French student. In just a few short hours, you found life at eighteen proving difficult already. How on earth could you navigate this school year with all these men being distractions? Stephen was always your source of affection, and even though you still held strong feelings for him…you found yourself hooked on these new characters. Maybe Newt was right, sexual maturity had officially peaked and you hated every minute of it.

***

A/N: Alright, tell me!! Who do you ship Reader with so far?! Hope you liked it! There’s nothing greater than writing a trashy cliche high school fic. Takes me back, my loves…takes me back. Feedback appreciated! ❤️

[simnovels-blog]

Descendants of the Sun - We're the Omikami's

Week 19, day 4 People always say their own family is the weirdest one around. I usually try not to say cliché things, but really, the Omikami family of Uzume was definitely the weirdest one around. How could it not be, with three teenagers and three kids living under the same roof. This entry will mainly be about the crazy whereabouts of this family, but let's first start with a few pictures of the younger triplets.

Miyazu gave herself a look that really suited a little princes. She was very concerned about her looks and gained the trait Diva.

Kagutsuchi gained the trait daredevil, which would really help him with his dream to become a fire-fighter. By the way, his face is identical to Inari's! It will probably change when they turn into teens, but for now they have exactly the same face.

Inari fell over when she tried to open the dresser, so she gained the trait Clumsy.

Now let's get back to what I was saying about the Omikami family being the strangest family around. I've got quite a few arguments for this statement. The first one is about Uzume. Lately she was really becoming a fanatic at singing sing-a-grams. It didn't seem to bother her at all to sing these embarrassing songs to other people with that strange machine that failed half of the time...

In the meantime, Izanami was busy developing her evil trait by pranking every single shower in the house. The reason for this was Miyazu, who had told her that painting your hair a strange colour was a very 'lame' thing to do... I guess she hasn't learned yet to not insult her evil dramatic genius sister...

Kumari hardly cared about her family at all. She was way to busy becoming the most popular girl in school. Kumari: "Did you see what Heimin was wearing to school today? I'm soooo embarassed that that stupid girl is my aunt oh my gosh. (...) Yeah, you're right. We should totally hang her clothes in a tree during gym class. (...) Oh my god, that's SO SPLASH!" Izanami: "Stop trying to make splash happen."

Kamikaze was still very aware of the fact that I was observing the family. She took every opportunity to give me creepy stares through the screen, which made me avoid her most of the time during my observations...

Miyazu: "MOM!!! SOMEONE BOOBY TRAPPED MY SHOWER!!" Izanami: "Mwhuahahahahah."

Kumari went to the winter festival to show off her snowboard skills to the handsome boys in town. It was a shame though, that no one else was there to see them...

Inari: "Who stole the ingredients that were in my fridge?!!" Kamikaze: "There's a strange snowy creature in the back garden that might have stolen them and used them as a face." Inari: "What on God's earth are you talking about?!" Kagustuchi: "My scarf is also gone..." Izanami: "Mwhuahahahahaha."

Last night it was time for prom. Kumari had tried really hard to find a date, but it seemed that the Omikami family was cursed when it came to finding dates to prom and all three of the girls went without one. Lots of things happened at prom that I couldn't see since I cannot go into the school with my almighty camera, but I could hear everything the girls were saying during the prom... Kamikaze: "Hey, can you please vote me for prom queen? It will be funny." Random student: "Why? Shouldn't Kumari be prom queen?" Kamikaze: "Exactly, and that's why she shouldn't be prom queen." Izanami: "Hey, I like your date's fangs, can you give him to me?" Random female student: "What?! You're checking out my date?! Do you want to fight???!" Izanami: "You asked for it!" Locke: "Wow, Kamikaze, you sure know how to dance." Kamikaze: "I'm not dancing I'm trying to catch the ghosts around me." Locke: "Well, whatever you're doing, you're awesome." Kumari: "Hey, do you want to dance?" Most popular guy in school: "AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA no." Izanami: "What?! That girl is wearing the same dress as me!!" Kumari: "Try not to get in a fight again..." Izanami: "BUT-" Kamikaze: "Guys be quiet they are going to pronounce the prom queen and king." Student council president: "And the promqueen of this year is.... KAMIKAZEEE." Kamikaze: "OH YEAH, THAT'S SO SPLASH!" Kumari: "But.... why? It should be me!!" Izanami: "Let's beat up the girl with that dress now?" Kumari: "Ok." Random student: "Check out Kumari! She might not be prom queen but she's really tearing up the dancefloor!" Kamikaze: "It's a shame, though, that dancefloor was really expensive..." Random student: "Yeah... wait, what?" Izanami: "Did you just throw punch on my friend?" Random student: "What friend? You don't have any friends." Izanami: "What?! You're asking for a fight, missy!"

By the time the prom was finally over, all three of them had gained a romantic interest. Izanami had stolen the date from the girl she got into her first fight with. It was Waylon Wolff, one of the original townies who had been a teenager forever already. Though he was listed as her romantic interest, in her thoughts I could see that she more likely saw him as a puppy instead of a lover.

Kamikaze hooked up with Locke Peters-Musgrave, the guy who had complimented her 'dance'. He of course was not human, because that would be too normal for her. He was a fairy!

Kumari, who had first been rejected by the most popular guy in school, laid her eyes on a guy that was not popular at all, but a lot more handsome than she first noticed. His name was Floyd Peters-Musgrave and he was Locke's brother. The guy had taken all evening to gather enough courage to dance with Kumari. In the end, when he finally asked her, the music stopped right when they reached the dance floor. Kumari promised him they would continue their dance on their first date.

The prom made me realize that Aiko never went to prom... I guess she was too busy painting when it was time for her prom. Most of the time, while the rest of the family was acting crazy, she was in her room painting and bringing in most of the money in the household. With so many children that have to move out eventually, they needed a lot of money to pay for all the houses, so she better keep painting.

Uzume found her son in her room last night... Uzume: "Kagu, what are you doing in my room?" Kagutsuchi: "Don't worry, mom! I'm just checking if there's any monsters under your bed. Just to be sure, you know..." It would probably the last time he would ever look under the bed...

So much for brave Kagutsuchi.

Looking at the family like this might confirm that they are a very strange family indeed, but for me it also tells me how happy they are together. The children are fighting with each other in a healthy way and I've never seen Uzume more happy. I'm glad that this family turned out great after all, even though there's no father around. I'm proud of my granddaughter!

[writingibberish]

                                              -- GABRIEL --

Basics

Name: Gabriel Name Meaning: The name of a Zalorian hero Nicknames: ‘Snake Breath’, a reference to the time he accidentally ate a snake as a kid Age: Twenty Five Birthdate: Unknown. Sometime in Summer List a few of his positive traits: Intelligent, Atheltic, Determined  List a few of his negative traits: Emotionally Unavailable, Closed Off

Physical Description

Hair color / style: Black / Short, a little messy Eye color: Dark green  Height: 6″2 Body type: Athletic What are his distinguishing facial features: His cheek bones and stunning green eyes Does he have any birthmarks? His back is covered in moles Does he have any scars? He has several from battle practise, and a couple of burns Does he have any piercings or tattoos? None Does he have a tan? He tans easily, so yes, usually Left or right handed? Right handed

Personal Style

How does he usually dress? Dark tunics, Black breeches, and a Leather jacket. All regulation uniform, minus the leather jacket, that December got him as a secret ‘December’ Holiday. (December being a national holiday in Zaloria.) What’s on his feet? Boots What are his beauty/grooming essentials? He showers What is his favorite article of clothing? His leather jacket What does he wear to bed? At home, he sleeps in a soft tunic and cotton trousers. Whilst travelling throughout the book, he just takes his shoes off and uses his jacket as a makeshift blanket What kind of jewelry does he wear? None What do they smell like? Leather, pine, and sweat

Friends

Who is his best friend? December. They’ve been team mates since they were children, and she’s the only person who comes close to seeing past the walls he puts up Who is his worst enemy? Within the insitutue, there’s a paticular boy that’s always worked to make his life miserable, purely because Gabriel was picked to go on the misson above him and has always done better than him, and Gabriel constantly aggravates him and makes him worse. In general, the King is probably one of his worst enemies, or the institute himself.  Who is he closest to? December How would a friend describe him? “Gabriel? He’s a cold bastard at the best of times, just as brilliant as he is harsh, but he’s alright if he’s on your side.” What does he most value in friends? Intelligence  Does he make friends easily? No

Living Arrangements

Where does he live? The Institue  Why did he choose to live there? He didn’t choose What type of living accommodations does he have? A small concrete room  Did he choose this residence? No, it’s the room he was allocated within the Institute  What is his favorite room? The gym or the library, whichever is quieter Where does he call home? The Institute, but it’s hardly a home. He’ll leave as soon as he can. Where would he love to live? Somewhere warmer, where he has a family Where did he grow up, and how has their view of this place changed as they matured? He was raised within the Institue, and he’s slowly resented it more as he’s grown up.

Relationships

How does he feel about the opposite sex? He’s gay, so relationship-wise, he doesn’t care much? Married/single/divorced: Single Does he have former lovers? No, The Institute didn’t leave much room for that Has he ever been in love? No Does he fall in love easily? Nooooooo Has he ever had his heart broken? No What quality does he most admire in women? Intelligence What quality does he most admire in men? Intelligence (He hates stupid people okay) What does he find most attractive in a partner? He likes intelligent, capable people who don’t talk excessively, and who are cute, not that he’d admit any of that, least of all the last bit.   What is his biggest turn-off in a partner? Stupidness.  Who was his first crush? He’s found one or two people physically attracted, namely one of his proffesors when he was a teenager, but he’s never been emotionally attracted to somebody.  Describe his first kiss: I will when it happens What would be his perfect date? Cafe & Library / Exploring Somewhere

Favorites

What is his/her most important/treasured material possession? Leather Jacket. It’s practical, and it’s one of the only proper gifts he’s ever been given Hobbies/pastimes: Reading and Running Favorite kind of music: Anything without lyrics Favorite food/drink: There’s a specific kind of bread you can get in Marallayan Markets that he’s never been able to find again, but is his favourite food. His favourite drink is a beverage that can only be described as a Zalarian coffee. Favorite fictional hero/heroine: Aiden, from The Myth of Aiden; a Zalorian tale of a man that could tame wild animals.  Favorite names: I doubt he’s ever thought about it. If he had, he’d probably like the names Aiden and Samuel.  Favorite kind of sandwich: Zavalo (A meat that comes from the leg of a sort of bunny / tiger hybrid) Favorite thing to eat for breakfast: What could best be described as a bowl of mushed berries and grapes Favorite book: An ancient copy of ‘Zalorian Mythology’ that he stole from the Institute library when he was 17 Favorite color: Dark blue / red Favorite animal: Squirrels. He nursed one back to health once. It was one of the first times December ever saw him really care about something.  Favorite sweet: The hedasfalk sweets you get from various markets near the Institute. Sort of like m&m’s.  Favorite city: Marallayan. It’s a town not a city, but it’s gorgeous and he could’ve spent an eternity sat near the waterfall or exploring the markets. Favorite sport: Racing or Free For All Fighting (FFAF) (Two or more people in a ring on the field. Last one standing wins. No rules.) Favorite flower: Bevelof Flowers. They grow just out of the Institute grounds, and they’re fucking ugly, which is why he likes them.

Personality

Which one event in his life has made him the person he is today? Being taken from his orphanage and put into the Institute. They trained him to be a weapon, to fear nothing and to never let emotions get in the way, which is exactly what he grew to be, for better or for worse. How does he feel about himself? He never feels like he’s good enough. He’s always got to work harder and prove that he’s enough, whether to himself or to other people. Gabriel comes across as cold and confident, but he’s hurt and insecure and he hates himself for not being the person he works so hard to be.  What trait does he most want to keep secret? The insecurity What trait does he most despise in himself? That he’s not perfect. He was raised with the mindset that he /had/ to be.  What does he like about his life? He likes that he’s had the oppurtunity to learn so much and be trained in so many different skills. What does he dislike most about his life? Pretty much everything else about the insitutue. He was raised in a completely unloving and harsh enviroment and he isn’t quite so keen on that What is his most likable trait? He’s incredibly loyal. He’s gotten into so much trouble for beating up people that said shit to December, and for helping her when she got herself into trouble. She does the same for him. What his his most unlikeable/troublesome trait? He’s cold and usually silent, so getting to know him is near impossible, and he’s difficult to like. What one thing would he like to change about himself? He’d like to not feel the overwhelming need to be perfect What is his current state of mind? Complete determination to destroy the topex, save the kingdom, and fulfil his entire life’s purpose.  What is his idea of perfect happiness? Having and living with a loving family What is his greatest fear? Faliure, abandonment, and big fires What are his bad habits? He bites at his thumb and fingers when he’s stressed or upset, he always presumes that everybody around him is incompetent, and he wants to do everything himself What relaxes him? Reading or Running What does he do when he’s angry? Punches things

Other Questions

What is his greatest achievement? Being chosen to partake in the mission to destroy the topex What would he die to defend? Anythng that he deemed a worthwhile loss. His kingdom or team, for example What one thing would he change about the world? He’d get rid of the topex What living person does he most despise? The king When and where was he happiest? When him, December, and a few others went to visit Marallayan a couple of years back. What is his greatest regret? The Night of the Fire. He fell asleep reading by candle light one night and burnt down an entire section of the Institute. Nobody died, but a few (including himself) were injured, and he’s been terrified of fire ever since.  What is the talent he would most like to have? Charisma. He’s never been very good at charming people and getting them to like him, even just as a way to gain access. He’s awkward and used to barely saying anything at all. That’s why he works so well with December, who is fantastic at exactly that. Either way, it’d be nice to be able to charm people himself. What trait does he most despise in others? Stupidness Who are his real life heroes? Gabriel, his namesake, who not only saved Ancient Zaloria from the armies of Dalasfeig, but conqured their city in the same afternoon. Ancient Dalasfeig is now the top part of Zaloria.  How would he like to die? In battle probably. Something honourable  Does it matter to him what astrological sign he is? No such thing in Zaloria, but it wouldn’t even if he knew what that meant What is his attitude towards religion, and what does he believe in? There are many religions in Zaloria, and he doesn’t subscribe to any of them.  If he were to die and come back as a person or thing, what does he think it would be? That isn’t something he’s ever thought it would be?? I’d imagine he wouldn’t mind coming back as a dragon though What is his motto? Whatever it takes Is he had an unexpected half-day free, how would he spend it? Reading in the library or training in the gym What secrets does he have? He’s never admitted to anyone that it was his fault that the Institute burned down, nor that the marks on his back are from the time he got into a fight with Zacharia (a squirmy weasal of a boy if I ever saw one) and the boy won the fight and beat him until he was sobbing and begging for him to stop - he was fifteen and he considers it one of his most shameful moments.  What makes him laugh out loud? December, on a very rare occasion. Generally jokes pertaining to their current situtation make him laugh more than anything else. What is in his refrigerator? He doesn’t have one, but it would probably just be fruits, vegetables, and meats.  What on his bedroom floor? Carpet. Occasionally a pair of socks. What is on/in his nightstand? His current book, a candle, and a small painting of the Marallayan Waterfall What is in his garbage can? Scrunched up paper If he was Spring Cleaning, what things would be easiest for him to get rid of? What items would be hardest? He doesn’t have much trouble getting rid of most things. He’d never get rid of his leather jacket or other personal items with that much sentimental pr practical value. Useless junk would be gone in a flash. What is he doing Saturday at noon? Training Does he smile for pictures? They don’t have cameras, but no, he wouldn’t Does he believe in ghosts? Yes, but only because there’s substantial evidence to prove that they’re real in certain places What does he do most often when he is bored? There’s always more work to do. He’s rarely bored. Does he like to dance? Not paticuarly  If he could go back in time and change one event in his life, which one would he change? The Night of the Fire Is he superstitious? No Does he collect anything? He has a few knives, but I wouldn’t call it a collection of such What is he saving up to buy? Nothing Can he cook anything more extravagant than toast? He can cook raw meat on a fire pretty well, and he does stews and the like well How would he handle an intruder? However was most logical in each specific situation Has he ever been publically acknowledged for anything? No, but he’ll be publically acknowledged for destroying the topex and saving Zaloria at the end of the book Does he speak more than one language? Yes What place(s) would he most like to travel to? He’d love to see out of Zaloria. The Utifos Kingdom is supposed to be really beautiful. Describe one fight he had in the past: He battled Jivovian, a member of the first team sent to destroy the topex four years ago, during the Summer Solstice Games a couple of years before Jivovian died. It was an incredible fight with fancy swords and every student and proffessor there to watch. Gabriel didn’t win, but he almost did, and it was one of the only fights he genuinely enjoyed despite not winning. 

Story Questions

As the story begins what is his problem? He’s cold and emotionally distant; He’s yearning for a family What does he do to make this problem worse? He pushes people away Who is this person’s love interest? Blue What is this person’s ideal happy ending? He goes home with Blue and is welcomed into his family

[narcissa-blvck-blog]

The Marauders HQ - Task 001

Narcissa Black - Character Development Sheet

BASICS

Name: Narcissa Ophelia Black

Nicknames?: Cissa, Cissy (only family and close friends are allowed to call her this)

Age: 16

Birthday: October 10th

Gender: Female

Orientation: Heterosexual

Zodiac Sign: Libra

APPEARANCE

Hair Color: White-Platinum Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Complexion: Light, Pale

Height: 5′4

Build: Thin, Slender, Petite

Glasses/Contacts?: N/A

Heritage/Ethnicity: White

Tattoos/Piercings?: Ear Piercings

Distinguishing Features: White-Platinum hair, Bright blue eye colour, Cheek dimples when she smiles

WIX

Bloodstatus: Pureblood

House/Year: Slytherin, 5th Year

Boggart: Failure

Patronus: Dog - Those with the dog patronus are very loyal to those they care about, but can vary widely in personality, in extreme ways. Some are the silent type, speaking only to specific individuals and keeping within their comfort zone. They are hesitant in their situations and can seem to be stand-offish or intimidating to some. Others are quite bubbly, speaking to everyone and trying to be friendly and cordial. However when this demeanour is threatened they can become very blunt and harsh, showing aspects of the quieter dogs.

Quidditch?: Plays recreationally in the position of Seeker

Prefect?: N/A

Extra Circulars?: Art Club, Care of Magical Creatures Club, Potions Club & Slug Club

Wand: Cherry Alder, Dragon Heartstring, 12′, Unyeilding

Amorentia: *yet to be discovered*

SPEECH

Languages: English, French, Norwegian, Spanish and Latin

Accent?: Proper English, specifically well mannered.

Voice Pitch: Soft/Normal

Anything Distinctive?: Her pronunciation is proper and she never swears.

PERSONALITY

Introvert/Extrovert?: Introvert

Hobbies/Interests: Potions, Reading, Social Gatherings,

Skills/Talents: Advanced Intelligence, Pianist, Quidditch Skills, Occlumency, Legilimency, Apparition, Proficient Duelist.

Bad Habits: Bitchy, Sly, Dismissive,

Likes: Reading, Piano, Fine Clothing & Jewels, Luxurious Items, Being better than others

Dislikes: Muggleborns, Blood-Traitors, Cheap and Tacky Items, Uncivilised people, Terrible Manners & Cheese - Narcissa hates cheese.

Strengths: Intelligence, Loyal, Occlumency, Apparition, Potion Brewing

Flaws: Easily Lead, Cowers to Bellatrix, Doesn’t speak up to injustice

Pet Peeves: People leaving lights on when no one is in a room, Bad table manners, People that cough and don’t cover their mouth, People not taking care of their appearance.

Describe Sense of Humour: Narcissa rarely laughs at anyones jokes even if she finds them funny. If she laughs then you’ve won her over.

FAVORITES

Color: Green/Silver/White/Black

Animal: Dogs or Otters

Food: Consommé or Boeuf Bourguignon

Drink: Tea (any kind but prefers Peppermint or Enchiacea & Raspberry), Rustic Pinot Noir, Champagne.

Genre of Books: Classic Novels

Genre of Music: Classical, Soft Old School (Fleetwood Mac, The Smiths, Belle & Sebastian, Simon & Garfunkel)

Season: Fall/Winter

RELATIONSHIPS

Relationship with Parents: Narcissa adores her parents, they gave her everything she ever wanted in life and more. She was the poster child for poise and perfection and was raised to be the high class lady that she truly is destined to be in life. Narcissa is a porcelain doll. She was a trophy child -and due to her parents wishes- she’ll be a trophy wife. As much as she loves her parents, Narcissa can’t help by feel annoyed at how quickly & how easily they write her off to be nothing more than a pretty face. She’s dangerously intelligent and full of talents, so why couldn’t they place her on the same field as Bellatrix or Andromeda? Narcissa’s loyalty is undying and no matter what decisions her parents make for her in life, she will comply for the sake of her family.

Relationship with siblings: It’s safe to say that each of the Black Sisters have their own unique personalities. For three girls who grew up together, they all turned out the polar opposite from each other. She loves her sisters dearly and cherishes them and any moment she has with them. Family is everything to Narcissa and she will cling to that until the last breath of her lifetime. She worries about her sisters frequently for different reasons. She worries for Bella and her sanity like she worries for Andie and her relaxed demeanour when it comes to blood status. Knowing her sisters, Narcissa knows there’s no was this will end well. Bellatrix - Her oldest sister and her fiercest protector, she knows theres an indication of caring from Bella. Narcissa is scared of her sister to an extent - she doesn’t know what she is capable of and what extent she will go to for what she wants. Bellatrix’s undying loyalty for the cause is almost admirable if it wasn’t so troubling that her parents were basically raising her to be the ultimate warrior for an unavoidable war. Andromeda - Narcissa doesn’t see Andromeda much - much to her disappointment. She worries about Andie and how she seems to be more lax and lenient with blood status and family morals.

Relationship with extended family: Sirius - Cissa loved Sirius when they were younger; he was fun and cheerful in a family that is surrounded by so much darkness. She cried when he left until she received a slap on the face and told to ‘grow up’ from her eldest sister. Though she doesn’t agree with Sirius’ choices, she respects them - unlike Bellatrix. She was impressed at his bravery to do what he did and deep down she misses his light hearted personality around but she wouldn’t dare admit this. She settles only to hope he is at peace with himself and his choices. Regulus - Narcissa doesn’t know what to make of him. He seems troubled and almost lost to her. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t see him as much as she sees her sisters but nevertheless he still crosses her mind from time to time.

How are they in a romantic relationship?: Narcissa hasn’t really had the opportunity to explore this. If she ever was asked on a date, the boy was throughly back ground checked and interrogated before he even had the chance to say hello to Narcissa herself. Her family are strict with who she dates and with talks of an arranged marriage, it looks like she’ll find out soon enough.

How are they as a friend?: As bitchy and cold as Narcissa is, she is a loyal and understanding friend to the fair few that make the cut.

What do they look for in a lover?: Narcissa wants someone as loyal and dedicated as she is. She wants the love that she reads of in books - the love that someone would go to the end of the earth for her as she would for him. The same ideals and a solid wealth (to win her family over) but ultimately she wants to meet her match - someone that challenges her, someone that she can learn from and grow with.

What do they look for in a friend?: Much of the same as most people, but Loyalty and Ideals are key factors

EXTRA

Occupation/Goal Occupation: Currently a student and wants to do something with her Occlumency and Legilimency skills - but if her family deny this for her, a member of high society is a full time job, right?

Religion: N/A - Narcissa believes in no god but respects those who do.

Pets: Owl called Callisto - but shes alwaaaays wanted a puppy but was never allowed because the family has some other dangerous pets around.

SELF-PERCEPTION

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Narcissa is confident in herself and her looks.

One word the character would use to describe self: Loyal

Description of how the character would describe self: “A woman of class and elegance. A perfect example of the Black family name; An elite name for an elite blood-status”  

What does the character consider their best personality trait? Intelligence/Loyalty

What does the character consider their worst personality trait? Materialistic/Shallow

What does the character consider their best physical characteristic? Eyes - they’re bold, strong, everything she should be.

What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic? Her height. Narcissa hates being small - she feels underestimated because she looks so doll-like.

How does the character think others perceive them: Cold, Intimidating, Shallow.

What would the character most like to change about themselves: Nothing. She believes she’s supposed to be this person

GOALS/CONFLICT

Most Painful Experience or an Experience that has shaped who your character is today: When Narcissa was younger she watched Bellatrix crush a bird with her bare hands while their father applauded her. This was the first time she felt fear of her sister.

Characters Goals. What do they want? What is their biggest dream? To be valued and make her family proud.

Characters Motivation. Why do they want the goal above? For who or what? She wants to prove that she is worthy of her families name and everything she got/gained from it’s perks. She wants to prove she’s just as great as her other sisters, even if it’s in a different way.

Characters Conflict. What is keeping them from their goals? Narcissa fears war is coming faster than anticipated and she doesn’t want people she cars about to be caught in the crossfire.

What would your character wish for if they knew it would come true? To make her family proud and to amount to something.

[renegaderoots]

GENERAL INFORMATION

♚┋FULL NAME: Trish Lynch neé Hart ♚┋PRONUNCIATION: t r IH sh 

♚┋NICKNAME(S): None.

♚┋TITLE: The Asserter ♚┋OCCUPATION: Money Launderer/Journalist  ♚┋~AGE: 35 ♚┋DATE OF BIRTH: 8 August ♚┋GENDER: Cisgender ♚┋PRONOUNS: She/Her ♚┋ORIENTATION: Greyromantic Bisexual ♚┋NATIONALITY: American ♚┋RELIGION: Wicca ♚┋SPECIES: Human ♚┋AFFILIATION:Lynch ♚┋GENERATION: Third ♚┋THREAT LEVEL: Moderate (not malicious, sometimes violent, tends to be aggressive)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

♚┋FACE CLAIM: Amber Heard ♚┋EYE COLOUR: Brown ♚┋HAIR COLOUR: Blonde ♚┋DOMINANT HAND: Left ♚┋HEIGHT: 5 ft seven or 170 centimeters ♚┋WEIGHT: 62 kg or 137 pounds ♚┋TATTOOS: too many rose tattoos to count ♚┋SCARS: a scar on her left cheek. ♚┋PIERCINGS: belly button piercing ♚┋GLASSES: No.

PSYCHOLOGY INFORMATION

♚┋JUNG TYPE: ISTP ♚┋SUBTYPE: Sensing  ♚┋ENNEATYPE: 7w8 ♚┋MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral ♚┋TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine/Choleric ♚┋SCHEMA: AS, ED, DI ♚┋INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Musical, Linguistic ♚┋~IQ: 128 ♚┋NEUROTYPE: Neuroatypical  ♚┋AT RISK? Since there’s a predisposition in her family regarding schizophrenia on her maternal side (though unknowingly), she was diagnosed with undifferentiated schizophrenia aged 25.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

♚┋HOMETOWN: Boston, MA, America ♚┋CURRENT: Dublin, Ireland ♚┋LANGUAGE(S): English, some Irish (she’s being taught by her husband), Swedish ♚┋SOCIAL CLASS: Before her marriage, Trish was part of the working class but now belongs to the Upper Middle class. ♚┋DEGREE: Bachelor ♚┋SUBJECT(S): Journalism ♚┋PARENT #1: Unknown ♚┋PARENT #2 David Hart, deceased, estranged ♚┋SIBLING(S): None ♚┋MAIN SHIP: Trish/Rory ♚┋RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married to Rory Lynch ♚┋CHILDREN: none yet ♚┋PET(S): a bird named Archie ♚┋ADOPTED? No. ♚┋RAP SHEET? Yes, mostly during her delinquent youth, though her crimes (like shoplifting) were mostly disregarded and downplayed with community service. ♚┋PRISON TIME? No.

VICES / HABITS

♚┋SMOKES? Yes. ♚┋DRINKS? Yes. ♚┋DOES DRUGS? Occasionally smokes weed ♚┋IS VIOLENT?  Extreme aversion towards violence given her own psychological scarring as a result of it, but she can and will defend herself if necessary – so her way of doing so is strictly physical, though Trish does have a history of emotional manipulation as well. ♚┋HAS AN ADDICTION? No, but used to: narcotics ♚┋IS SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? Yes. ♚┋HABITS: Trish, in a word, is weird. She is late to meetings so often because she showered and then proceeded to sit on her bed in a towel staring at the wall for an hour without doing anything. Her chronic lateness, at this point, is moreso a vice than a habit. That aside, she will not leave the house without chewing gum or thirteen pens in her pocket/purse. ♚┋HOBBIES: playing with Archie, writing, organizing events, muscle cars ♚┋TICS: List all tics your character has ♚┋OBSESSION(S): Again, not necessarily an obsession, but Trish is fascinated by firearms and knows a frightening amount of it for somebody who’s not legally allowed to carry one. ♚┋COMPULSION(S): List all compulsions your character has

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

♚┋HOUSE: Gryffindor ♚┋VICE: Greed ♚┋VIRTUE: Humility ♚┋ELEMENT: Water ♚┋ANGEL: Uriel ♚┋MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Godling (The Witcher) ♚┋ANIMAL: Sparrow ♚┋MUTATION: Air manipulation ♚┋WOULD SURVIVE POST-APOC? No.

STATUS INFORMATION

♚┋DEVELOPMENT: Underdeveloped. ♚┋SHIPPING: Multiship. ♚┋VERSE: Verselocked. ♚┋VERSE TYPE: crime ♚┋CANON: crime ♚┋PLOTTING: open ♚┋CREATION DATE: April 2018

CHARACTER SUMMARY

Born into what most would call a dysfunctional clusterfuck, Trish has always been restless, following her wanderlust to find a home away from home; a place to belong. Her father, unfortunately, threw his ambitions out the window and took to gambling until his debts far surmounted his will to live. His legacy, in short, were bills to pay and strange men turning up at her door. It was Rory who helped turn her enemies into assets – and those who did not bite are in no position to bark up the wrong tree today. After tumultuous relations, Trish has always carried emptiness inside her, and a kind of poisonous envy at the sight of fortunate souls. Above all, she wants to be loved; she needs to love. Proving to her worth to the Morrisons and the Lynchs means the most to her as they are her benefactors. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to fight for her shot at a family – not even bending the law.

APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION

Unsurprisingly, neither her height nor her weight are of much consequence. In fact, she is often undermined as the typical damsel in distress deal, and gladly takes advantage of how she is generally perceived. Moreover, her choice of dress, while neither bright nor complicated, is undoubtedly lavishly expensive. Rory doesn’t mind her interest in materialistic things and actually endorses it, flaunting his wealth just like his wife. That, however, is not the only present Rory has given her. At their first anniversary, he gave her a rose garden since Trish loves roses, most evident by her collection of rose tattoos. Like all women involved with the Morrison family, however, Trish was told to improve her self-taught fighting skills (most of which she picked up on the streets) and now attends Krav Maga lessons regularly. However, it can be challenging at times to stay focused since she does have a scatter-brained tendency to her and a sometimes bone-idle work ethic.

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION

Generally, you will be met with a shy smile and in quite a cordial manner. While her temperament is not exactly that of a party animal, Trish treats others kindly and appears soft-spoken at first until her views are challenged – then, her obstinate streak comes into play, making her somewhat unyielding and hard to get along with unless you see eye to eye. No matter what, she will defend her idealistic roots and readily pairs them with sober realism; but not without her relentless drive for self-improvement. More than anything, Trish is an autodidact and highly curious. 

There’s scarcely anything dull to her so long as she encounters somebody with an infectious alacrity for their respective milieu. In contrast to this, though, are her contemplative moods where she will flat out refuse to talk or even so much as acknowledge anyone, especially in times of great stress. The crux of Trish is this: her own insecurity and lack of strong self is irrevocably reflected in her ever changing mannerisms. The need to be loved or at least liked, to matter to something or to somebody is such an overruling instinct to her that most of her personality is often in constant flux to accommodate whatever her partners need. 

To combat this, her principles are often in opposition with the innerworkings of her very family and, more frequently than she’d like, surrenders completely, seemingly content to play the beautiful flower with no opinions of her own. All in all, her emotions are her own business, and she’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, struggling between bouts of self-doubt and unwavering confidence.

SKILLS / COMPETENCES

As far as her bilingual nature is concerned, Trish can communicate proficiently in both English – what with it being her mother tongue – and Swedish. Irish, as she finds, is a daily battle she intends to win. Where she shines most without a doubt, however, are her work-related studies. Obviously, her writing can more than hold its own but in addition to that, she is also knowledge in journalistic ethics, editing, photojournalism, television production technique, web design and, most importantly, how to fool everybody while lying through her teeth. Having her in charge of the finances would probably lead to bankruptcy, however, since Trish is not the least bit parsimonious – rather, she can be very generous.

INTERPERSONAL MANNER

In comparison to most others, Trish is probably one of the kindest, most likeable personalities within their inner circle. She’ll give you a smile easily; and a genuine one at that. Below her ingénue mask, however, there can be shrewdness coupled with an opportunistic business sense, given that she’s in charge of spinning amicable tales about the Morrison’s involvement with charity work. Thanks to her pen, the public laps up her words, revering especially Eoghan as a kind of celebrity. What’s more, Trish can be possessive in the way she loves, thinking of her lovers as possessions rather than people, the latter of which is a byproduct of the belief that she can’t have any lasting relationships, hence, depersonalizing them is the only manner in which she can be emotionally close to others.

 MISC.

Characteristic traits

Positive:

Individualistic, logical, optimistic, determined, patient

Negative:

Indecisive, dependent, shrewd, anarchistic, opinionated

Schemas

EMOTIONAL DEPRIVATION (ED)

    Expectation that one's desire for a normal degree of emotional support will not be adequately met by others.  The three major forms of deprivation are:

     A. Deprivation of Nurturance:  Absence of attention, affection, warmth, or companionship.

     B. Deprivation of Empathy:  Absence of understanding, listening, self-disclosure, or mutual sharing of feelings from   others.

     C. Deprivation of Protection:  Absence of strength, direction, or guidance from others.

   DEPENDENCE / INCOMPETENCE (DI)

     Belief that one is unable to handle one's everyday responsibilities in a competent manner, without considerable help from others (e.g., take care of oneself, solve daily problems, exercise good judgment, tackle new tasks, make good decisions). Often presents as helplessness.

  APPROVAL-SEEKING  /  RECOGNITION-SEEKING  (AS)

     Excessive emphasis on gaining approval, recognition, or attention from other people, or fitting in, at the expense of developing a secure and true sense of self.  One's sense of esteem is dependent primarily on the reactions of others rather than on one's own natural inclinations.  Sometimes includes an overemphasis on status, appearance, social acceptance, money, or achievement --  as means of gaining approval, admiration, or attention (not primarily for power or control). Frequently results in major life decisions that are inauthentic or unsatisfying;  or in hypersensitivity to rejection.

 INSPIRED BY: Triss Merigold (The Witcher)

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The Artist Bob Dylan

The Artist Bob Dylan

In response to week 4’s topic on art I thought I’d take a look at an artist as we did in seminars and think about why what they do is art.

This isn’t going to be a piece explaining why Bob Dylan’s music is art, but rather a more nuanced look at what he does that makes his music artistic. If you want to know why his music is art, then listen to this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeP4FFr88SQ

There you go. 

Bob Dylan was first noticed by the music industry for doing folk songs. These were traditional songs, handed down from generation to generation.  During the folk revival of the 1960’s he gained favour with his fresh takes on traditional songs and for his own original songs which drew from the rich American folk tradition to create music for a new age. He quickly rose to fame and became the poster boy for the folk revival.

The difference between the traditional folk songs Dylan played at the beginning of his career and the style of lyrics which would characterise his own particular brand of song writing could be compared to the difference between realist and modernist literature. Take a song like “Frankie and Albert,” which tells the story of a woman murdering her unfaithful lover, told in a very straightforward manner. It’s a song which raises moral questions and the refrain “he was her man, but he done her wrong” echoes throughout, foregrounding the sin of the unfaithful Albert whereas many would posit that Frankie was the worse character for murdering her man. Despite all this we still side with Frankie as she was faithful and caring where Albert was not. Dylan’s songs on the other hand, seem to create a series of different pictures and scenes, all connected in the one song to create on overarching mood or theme. A good example of this is “Desolation Row.”

Songs from his folk period which have been remembered are those which most people have heard of, like Blowing in the Wind and The Times they are a Changing. Personally, I don’t feel like these are even among the best of his work in his early career, One Too Many Mornings is often overlooked. The music Dylan produced during this early stage of his life was enough for any artist to happily retire on, but he was only getting started.

The folk revival had produced its stalwarts, those who were folk purists and were vocal about what was good music and what wasn’t. Having recorded a more electrified, rock n roll album, Dylan had returned to Newport to perform his folk songs, but prior to his set he had heard some of the older folk musicians and critics denigrating rock music, the music he had grown up playing.  In defiance, Dylan took to the stage and performed two songs with his rock n roll band. This event has become legendary in music history as one of its most rebellious moments ever, and stores are circulated about Pete Seeger, another popular folk singer, trying to cut the electrical wires with an axe (a story which he denied until he died).

A lot of people at the time and a lot of people today distinguish between the two style of music he played at this point as separate genres of music: folk and rock (or the hideous term “folk-rock”). People discuss them as if they were two completely separate things, yet lyrically, there was no real change in style between his late folk and early rock lyrics. He was just changing the style of the music, and while it was more commercial, it raised the bar for rock lyricists since.

A trait I’ve noticed as an avid listener of the man’s work is how he acts almost like a lyrical sponge, soaking up that which came before him and his previous work and taking it in new directions. Dylan had absorbed the folk culture he had been steeped in to create bold new songs, yet those who criticised this tonal shift failed to recognise this. His rock concerts during this period were booed, and he only made half the money he could have if he’d stuck to pure folk, but instead he made the music he wanted to.  There is a distinctly modernist tendency to the way he does this.

He’s had a few moments like this in his career, when he has made changes to the music he makes to the dismay of his fans. The next time was in the 80’s, when he released three back to back gospel albums after having become a Christian. Many fans stopped listening to his music and his albums received scathing reviews in the press.

When it comes to his art, authenticity is the key word and this I feel validates the art. Currently Bob Dylan has released five albums’ worth of Sinatra covers, which a lot of fans dislike. However when you listen to these tracks, you can hear the care, respect, and love for the songs he’s singing. Allen Ginsberg once described his singing as a “column of air,” meaning that he was completely one with the song. I think this perfectly describes why Bob Dylan is an artist.

I expect to see him on the syllabus by the time I leave.

-Daniel

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Effective ways to Tell Your Ex-boyfriend Sweetheart You Still Passion Him.

To begin the session, inquire your students if any of all of them have actually ever cracked a bone. Meso-break - like my little 2-day sanctuary right into the nation, a meso-break might be actually a stress-free weekend where all electronics are actually turned off - which aids to offer you a bit additional from a recharge in your electric batteries. I and my lover had some concerns which brings about our separate because after then my lifestyle has certainly never coincided i attempted all method to obtain him back but they were actually only misuse from effort as well as waste of time. It has a whole lot to break without a partner, oftentimes you'll split 6 to 20 opportunities. Thus whether you are mosting likely to event it up in the Caribbean or even you are actually taking the little ones to Disney Planet, listed here are actually some ideas to maintain you electronically protected this springtime rest. 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It offers me wonderful happiness whenever i listen to the title Dr.Zabaza because he is actually the wonderful man that reinforce my partnership particularly when my enthusiast had to do with leaving me for another girl yet by means of the assistance of Dr.Zabaza my aficionado transformed his thoughts and today our team are wed all thanks to Dr.Zabaza i am actually carefully grateful to him and also i will definitely want to give out his get in touch with information to those who assume they are going to truly require his help as well as the information are +2348182620374 or zabazalogan @. Tina B. Tessina, Ph.D. is a qualified therapist in S. California since 1978 with over Three Decade knowledge in guidance people as well as few as well as writer of 13 manuals in 17 languages, featuring This Ends With You: Mature and also Out of Disorder; The Unofficial Guide to Dating Once more; Money, Sex as well as Little ones: Cease Battling About the Three Traits That Can easily Ruin Your Relationship, The Traveler Relationship, and also her latest, Passion Styles: How to Celebrate Your Differences.

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Why The Buck Will Get Powerful Once again.

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Kevin Galione & Craig Galione- Capitalizing on a Growing Market

To be a successful entrepreneur requires many different characteristics, skills  and traits- of course sprinkled with the odd bit of luck. However, one of the key ingredients to making a success out of a business is having a passion for the product, as Kevin and Craig Galione know all too well. With the right passion for the service and products you are selling, then it comes across immediately to those you work with, who recognize this boundless enthusiasm and are much more likely to cooperate. For Kevin Galione and brother Craig Galione, working in the music industry was something they always felt they would end doing, thanks to their devotion and love of the art form.

While music technology has developed hugely, and along the way made many music formats surplus to requirements, real music lovers such as Craig and Kevin Galione recognized that there was still a huge market for people wanting DVDs, CDs VHS and Vinyl. So where did it all begin for these industrious and enterprising music loving duo?

The entrepreneurial journey of Craig and Kevin Galione started when they moved to San Diego looking for work. Craig had just graduated college while Kevin had had it with getting dressed up for work each day going to job he didn't like. Luckily for the savvy duo, it was the time that Ebay had just launched online, and was gaining popularity.  To begin with, they started out by going to swap meets with a little money and buying up obscure horror and independent style VHS tapes. At the time they were doing this, people could sell many of these titles for $20-50 since there wasn't much competition. Once Craig Galione and Kevin Galione got started they began buying large private collections of music from people, and eventually started buying up entire stores that were going out of business due to the rapid tech progress making them irrelevant. Many of the physical stores either did not know what Ebay was or did not want to take the time to figure it out, which could have kept them in business. And it was because of this that Wix Manner Music was born- the Galione boys very own Ebay music shop. After 20 years in the business, they are still going strong today, as more and more people turn to physical forms of music and film as disillusionment grows with digital forms of media, and nostalgia rides high.