#nor has she started her nervous habit of braiding her hair

[larissa-the-scribe]

"I'm just.... not sure what to do. It just feels like every time I try to help, I instead end up getting everyone into even more trouble."

[ghcstlyhearts]

CHARACTER BASICS

Full Name: Safieh Nassar

Nickname: Saf

Age: 92, but appears 30

Gender: Demi Woman

Pronouns: She & They

Ethnicity: Palestinian-Jordanian and Filipina

Nationality: Veritean

Education: Schooling on the island

Occupation: Owner of Night Owls

Hometown: Stardust Hollow

Current location: Ashborne City

Species: Fae

Written Aesthetics: The smell of something cooking on the stove, floral crowns, scars littering the skin & dancing under the moonlight.

trigger warnings: torture, brutality.

CHARACTER APPEARANCE 

Face Claim: Yasmine Al-Bustami

Height: 5'3"

Hair Colour: Black

Eye Colour: Hazel

Dominant Hand: Right

Distinguishing Features: Pointed Ears, small scars littering her skin, broken stubs of wings, a small tattoo on her left wrist that reads “believe”.

SUPERNATURAL EXTRAS 

Abilities: Glamour, Elemental Manipulation ( Fire ), Enhanced Senses, Extended Lifespan, Magic Manipulation & Healing Magic.

Have you always been aware of your abilities?: Yes, I come from two different fae families. I was taught about my abilities before I could even walk.

Favorite Magical Items:  Fairy dust, she often carries a small pouch of it.

What supernatural creature is your character most scared of?: Wixen, after the incident involving one who tried to take her wings.

Who or what would they die for? Those who come into her care, and what she believes in.

Does your character fight or flee? She doesn't really try and do either, if anything, she would try and mediate the situation.

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Empathetic, Compassionate & Giving.

Negative Traits: Overly trusting, Nervous & Disorganised.

Neutral Traits: Romantic, Soft & Dreamy.

Goals/desires: Her desire is to find the love of her life, to be accepted by the fae again, give those who need it a family.

Fears: Being alone, Wixen, Her wings never fully recovering, trusting the wrong person again.

Hobbies: Reading outside, baking, dancing, going for nature walks.

Habits: Humming softly, furrowing her brows when she's concentrating, absentmindedly tracing her scars, braiding her hair.

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT Q’S

QUESTION ONE: were you born on the island, if so, what kind of curiosities do you have about the world beyond? if you weren’t, what do you miss about the world outside veritas isles?  "I was born on the island, and I've always wondered how different the outside world is to ours, and what kind of people I would meet. It's difficult to get off the island though, so I've never tried."

QUESTION TWO: what is your favorite part about the island?  "It was Stardust Hollow, my old home. It was such a beautiful place, but I no longer feel entirely welcome there, so it's best I stay away."

QUESTION THREE: if your character is supernatural, do they fear humans? if human, do they fear the supernatural?  "Not really, I adore humans, actually. They're so resilient, and usually fairly friendly."

QUESTION FOUR: share a fun headcanon or fact about your character! this doesn’t have to be long, just something to introduce us to your character!  Her wings are actually tiny, broken stubs at this point, as they were cut/torn off. She fell for a wixen who was determined to make fae dust himself, and would manipulate and romance fae before taking their wings. She wasn't his first victim, but she was certainly his last, as she got him thrown onto the Forgotten Isle. It's been decades, and her wings still haven't recovered, nor has she been able to fly since.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 

BIO | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Old Fae Friends - Fae she used to be friends with, but after she lost her wings her community almost ostracised her, so she left. She hasn't had much communication with them since.

Found Family - Her own family turned her back on her, but since she started the diner, she's often gained a habit of taking on employees with no experience and nowhere to go, whilst also giving them a room in her giant mansion. Some of them remain, some have moved on, but still class Saf as family.

Current Friends - Close & Casual.

Ride or Die - Best Friend who she's known for years, stuck by her through everything.

Exes - Can be multiple! Despite what happened, she still hasn't given up on love, but she's unlucky with it. Could have ended well or badly.

Regulars - Faces she sees often at the diner, and will often chat to.

[goddessofroyalty]

As mentioned in this post here’s Naph’s three grandparents waiting in the hospital for him to be born.

So this kind of ended up a bit of an exploration of how Vander and Silco work together before at the end honing in on Ximena with her grandchild. Oh well.

Warnings: omegaverse, mpreg, hints of ableism on Ximena’s part

 ----------------

Ximena watches  Silco braids the long blue hair of his youngest daughter as he and Vander sit across from her in the hospital waiting room.

Ximena thought Powder’s hair looked lovely when she had showed up like it always did. But Silco had deemed it needing to be redone and the girl had sat in front of him to let him undo her hair and start again. Powder fiddling with some toy in her hands as he did.

Jayce had once told her that Viktor had a habit of fiddling with things when he was anxious or unsettled. Nervous fingers he had called it.

Clearly it was a trait shared by the other omegas in her son’s mate’s family.

Ximena wouldn’t judge them for it. Modern medicine had done wonders but there was still stories of those lost in birth. And Viktor was frailer than most for all he had never let it stop him.

Ximena was worried about him and she was neither his parent nor sibling.

“Where are you going?” Silco asks when Vander suddenly stands up. Both his and Powder’s heads shooting to the alpha as he does.

“For a smoke,” Vander says. “Do you want to join me?”

“No. I’ll stay.”

“Ximena?” Vander asks.

“Ah, no. I don’t smoke. Thank you for the offer though.”

Vander seems to shrug at it before heading for the side door that leads to the courtyard filling the middle of the hospital. Silco watching his mate until he is outside before returning to his daughter’s braids, clipping the gold bands into place when he’s finished.

“Better?” Powder asks when Silco gently tucks her hair down so it isn’t in the way of her hands.

Silco hums in response. Sitting back in the chair and reaching into his coat pocket.

If Ximena had to guess she would say there is something in there he is now fiddling with.

Vander returns after another minute looking clearly unhappy.

“The Kirammans are here.”

“What?” Silco snaps, already up on his feet.

“I saw them coming in through the windows to the front. None of them looked like they needed a hospital visit,” Vander explains. The implication of why they are here clear to even Ximena.

“How did they find out?” Ximena liked Cassandra well enough and is grateful for all the Councilor has done for her son. But Jayce and Viktor had wanted a couple days with their child themselves before letting the world know. And Cassandra tended to publicize things throughout her social circles if she thought they were worthy of publicity.

“Vi must have told her girlfriend, who told her mom,” Powder says, her tone surprisingly vicious.

The fact one of Viktor’s sisters is apparently dating Caitlyn is something Ximena will process later.

“I can see if I can convince her to come back later,” Ximena suggests. Not that she knows how. Cassandra is hard to deter once she has made up her mind.

“No,” Silco says, his tone not offering room for argument. “I will go tell the Councilor her presence is unneeded and unwanted. And later Vander can have a discussion with Violet about what she’s sharing with the woman’s daughter.”

Vander doesn’t say anything about his apparent future task, just steps out of his mate’s way as Silco heads towards the main entrance like he is going to war.

Ximena would feel sorry for Cassandra but really her presence was, as Silco put it, unneeded and unwanted.

Vander sits back down and Powder settles next to him. Leaning against her father as she continues to play with the toy she had been fiddling with. Vander watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Why is it taking so long?” Powder says, dropping the toy into her lap and leaning more into her father. “I want to see my new nephew!”

“These things take time,” Vander says causing Powder to snort.

“I know, I know. It took Dam two days to push Claggor out but it’s so boring just waiting,” Jinx says, twisting and collapsing into her father’s lap.

Vander gives Ximena a sheepish look at it. Not that she knows if it is over his daughter’s actions or words. It did answer her brief wondering over how Silco had been with his children considering the difference between him and his mate’s frame and explained even more his concerns over his slighter son.

“You should go back home,” Vander tells his daughter. “We will come get you all when Viktor is ready for guests.”

“No!” Powder says sitting up. “I want to see them when they’re all fresh and gross looking.”

“Powder,” Vander says with clear alpha authority in his tone.

“Dad,” Jinx says with playful teasing in her tone.

Vander just raises an eyebrow at it.

“Alright, fine. Jeeze,” Powder says, making a big deal of dragging herself to standing. “Just don’t let anyone like the Kiramman’s see the baby before we do.”

“Wouldn’t dare,” Vander says earning him a grin from her daughter before she heads off.

“She always seems to have unlimited energy,” Ximena says once the gone is girl. Every time she’s met Viktor’s youngest sister the girl seems to almost bounce around her family with endless enthusiasm.

It earns her a laugh.

“She can be a handful when she wants to be,” Vander says. “But her hearts in the right place.”

“Where’s Powder?” Silco asks as he returns. Carrying himself like he has been in heavy negotiations.

Knowing Cassandra he likely has been.

“I sent her home,” Vander says.

“Probably for the best,” Silco says with a sigh and a slump of his shoulders. The Zaun Representative giving way to a tired parent.

“You got rid of the Councilor?” Vander asks.

“For now,” Silco says, sitting next to his mate. “She wants to know as soon as we do that the baby’s born.”

“Honestly, that woman.” The boys’ need privacy and their families’ support as they adjust to being parents. Not every person in Piltover in their space like their child is some public commodity.

“I take it you won’t tell her until they want us to either?” Silco asks.

“Of course not.” Cassandra can wait with everyone else who isn’t family.

“Good.”

They spend a couple more hours waiting in silence before Jayce hurries into the hallway. All of them up on their feed when he does.

“He’s perfect,” Jayce says. “I’m a dad!”

“And Viktor?” Silco snaps. Harshly in Ximena’s mind even if she understands where it is coming from.

Jayce just takes it in his stride.

“He’s great as well. I mean, he’s tired but good. You can come see them both.”

Silco clearly doesn’t need to be told twice. Heading into the hospital suite immediately. Vander gesturing for Ximena to go next before following last.

Ximena isn’t surprised that Silco is immediately at the bed’s side checking on Viktor with hushed tones clearly not meant to be overheard. Despite his intimidating presence she has seen how much he cares about his children.

She will give them their moment while she checks on her son.

Jayce practically collapses on her when she offers him a hug. His strong arms squeezing her so tightly it makes it almost hard to breathe. Not that she dares tell him because he clearly needs it.

“I’m a dad,” he tells her again, like he can’t believe it’s true. “You’re a grandma.”

“You are. I am.” Ximena gently pulls away to look up at his face. To look up at her boy all grown up. Who has already achieved so much and she just knows will be a great father like his own had been in the time he had with Jayce. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Viktor did all the work,” Jayce says with a nervous laugh and a glance back at his mate and child. The baby now cradled in Silco’s arms as he and Vander no doubt are telling him how proud they are. The boy’s working so hard to get where they are. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Only if Viktor is comfortable with it.” Ximena remembers when Jayce was born. The mix or hormones making one irrationally protective of the tiny defenseless human they had created.

“He wants you too as well,” Jayce says, guiding her towards the bed.

Silco gives the baby back to Viktor as they approach. His expression the softest Ximena thinks she’s ever seen it as he traces his finger down his grandchild’s face before pulling away.

“How are you feeling Viktor?” Ximena asks because while the answer is obvious it is still polite to ask.

“Glad it is over,” Viktor jokes. “But I am, ah, happy with the results of all the effort.”

Ximena turns her attention to her grandchild. Still pink and soft and so delicate.

She knows all too well how quickly he will grow up but also knows she will never forget this moment.

“What’s his name?”

“Naph Talis,” Jayce answers. It isn’t the name she would have predicted for her grandchild but it is still a good one. And fair enough considering Viktor has no house name to give despite the power his family has gained. “Do you want to hold him?”

“If Viktor is okay with it.”

“Please do. I would like to eat something,” Viktor says handing his baby over to her easily. His parents and Jayce helping him adjust and settle with the food the hospital provided in his lap.

It gives Ximena time alone with her grandson.

His parents are right to be proud of him. Naph is a healthy adorable baby boy who right now seems to be taking more after Viktor just as Jayce had hoped.

She wishes her mate and Jayce’s father would have met him. But that is a wound she has long carried as she watched Jayce grow up and thrive without him.

At least Naph has three grandparents to spoil him as he deserves. Her son and his mate lucky in that as well.

[powerosewaterpuff]

so i was having mary and john grayson feels bc i always do ofc, and i decided well if i can’t find any other fics and headcanonns? imma make them myself hehe soo enjoy ! (heads up tho, it’s a l o t hehe)

Mary Grayson

-cannot cook, she is absolutely a w f u l at it but oh my god she loves watching john cook. she even follows him around, writing in a little journal about all the different recipes and steps, bc she is d e t e r m i n d to be able to make something other then cereal

-she always lets dick attempt to braid her hair, and even though it might come out looking bumpy and uneven, she couldn’t care less bc the smile on her sons face is priceless

- loves the summer, basking in the sun on a wide beach is her ideal happy place, because the winter reminds her a little too much of memories she wishes she could suppress

-she always sticks her tongue out just a bit when she’s focused on something, john still blushes when he sees that

-isn’t an avid reader, but she could watch johns facial expressions as he rereads the same twist in his favourite novel for the rest of her life

-she has a small array of ear piercings, which include three piercings on each lobe and upper lobe (the first she had received when she was a baby, and it had been her grandmothers idea), then she has a helix hoop piercing on each ear with a little stud underneath the hoop of the right ear. (Dick loves them, and always had a habit of fiddling with them even as a baby.)

-her laugh could be described as, (as courtesy of john grayson), “the sound of wind chimes billowing against the breeze, and then she starts snortin—Hey! It’s the truth, what do you want me to lie, mary?”

-dick most definitely inherited her eyelashes, long, dark and curled. she also tends to argue that he got her humour too, but john adamantly defends his honour as, “the most hilarious human being to walk the earth, and dick most definitely got my sense of humour, e x c u s e you, mariam.”

-she is infinitely glad that her and john have a very equal parenting system, without one person needing to be the primary disciplinarian as they work as a united front. (except when john and dick come inside the trailer, dragging in mounds of dirt from a flimsy soccer game. then? shes usually the disciplinary one then, shooing them to go take a shower and telling them that they needed to make sure every i n c h of dirt is out of the trailer before she’s done her afternoon stretches.)

-she’s a very bold and opinionated person, but stubbornly independent with a strong moral system and a fierce temper. she isn’t accustomed to asking for help, and is always expecting to be disappointed or let down. she’s always waiting for the catch to come into play, with john though? it never did

-the second dick gives her his puppy dog eyes, it’s over. she’ll give up the cookies she’s hidden in the top shelf, she’ll give him the biggest hug, she’ll practically do anything, and mary thinks john is the exact same.

-her gut instincts are scarily right, to the point where her best friend, the magicians assistant, is convinced she’s a psychic of some sort.

- the day she met john, she had heard about a young circus boy about her age coming to live with his great aunt in her neighborhood, but hadn’t really paid it any mind.

-it wasn’t until one neighbourhood party, that she locked eyes with a pair of vibrant blue eyes with a deeply rooted fire within them. it gave her a shock of adrenaline, and excitement, the same thing she felt when she was about to go on stage as a ballerina or about to face the uneven bars as a gymnast. it wasn’t a nervous bout of a adrenaline, it was a calming rush, one that filled her bones with a thrill beyond all compare. (Little did she know, the second john had locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, he had found what he was looking for.)

- mary was a natural born contortionist, with a flexibility she acquired from years of ballet as well as gymnastics. learning how to work the trapeze was a whole other thing though, as it was a little odd to adjust at first. she loved johns freedom and wild nature while soaring through the air though, a lot more then she loved the rigidness of her own form. (john disagreed vehemently, the way mary moved was like she was one with the air and the air was one with her, and he admits that was she an incredibly quick learner.)

-will always watch cartoons with dick, whether it be The Simpsons one evening or Tom & Jeremy the next.

-johns singing is her favourite thing ever, she always begs him to sing her to sleep and some nights, when john feels a deep rooted knot tug at his chest, mary is sweetly singing, “here comes the sun,” by the beatles in his ear

-her and johns go to song to get dick to sleep is, “little bird, little bird,” by elizabeth mitchell. she always changes the last bird, a whip-poor-well, to a robin bird. it’s a little offbeat but she thinks dick likes it. (dick loves it.)

-has an unparalleled amount of energy, and is always bursting with exuberance, the only one who can really challenge her on that is dick. both of them are absolute adrenaline junkies.

-has an insatiable love for period dramas, it is her absolutely guilty pleasure and will be found watching tapes of her favourite show in the living room at like 3am

-she loves the smell of burning wood and loves sitting outside of summer nights, taking in the sounds of the cicadas and the cold breeze.

-she is absolutely exasperated with her sons ability to make friends with injured woodland animals, it was adorable and absolutely darling to an extent, but oh my god if she had to handle one more skunk with a broken leg or a fox with its leg stuck to a wooden post, she would consider barricading the circus.

-(she loves buying matching clothing for her family and her, but what she loves the most is dressing john and dick up to match, she has a whole box filled with those pictures, which would be perfect blackmail material once dick was in his teens.)

John Grayson

-is one of the most laid back human beings, he always has a lazy smile and gentle mischief twinkling in his eyes. (but fuck with his family and see what happens, he dares you.)

-his eyes are practically identical to dicks, in every shape, way and form. but dicks have an unstoppable light in them, that his just don’t have but he’s so happy they do.

-loves to overspray his cologne just to irritate mary, her scrunched up nose his absolutely adorable. (but he still couldn’t get why she didn’t like that cologne, it was fucking amazing)

-curses like an absolute sailor, and mary isn’t any better but she’s far better at censoring herself. john has had to slap a hand around his mouth a few times to avoid having to explain the word, “shit,” to dick.

-christmas is his favourite time of the year without a doubt, and loves to be curled up on his worn couch with a novel in hand in front for a fire.

-is an avid prankster, but if you confront him about it, he’ll give you a trademarked Grayson smile, and tilt his head to the side questioningly.

-his laugh is like (as courtesy of mary grayson), “a crash of waves, refreshing and loud with a distinct clarity, and then he starts to w h e e z—Hey! it’s the truth! I thought you were against lying, huh?”

-he’s ticklish, and his brother along with his wife and son take advantage of that way too much.

-dick is legit attached to this mans hip 24/7, like if you see john strolling around the circus there is a 94% chance that dick is either riding on his shoulders or settled comfortably on his hip.

-the day he met mary, he had felt a little out of place and stilted at this neighbourhood party. but he sucked it in bc anything was better then going back to his home, so he took a shaky breathe and tried to converse with his great aunts friends, until the music started and he locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, and he had found exactly what he was a looking for. a fleeting purpose that could so easily slip between his finger tips but the thrill to latch onto it was expanding in his chest. and he realized that if he didn’t march right on over there and talk to this girl, he would’ve lost something he didn’t even knew he could lose.

- playing guitar had always been a little bit of a therapeutic thing, because even though he tried to be practicing their act every single minute of his day, there were times where he needed to sit under a tree with his son curled in his lap, his leather jacket draped on him. the love of his life and the afterlife curled up next to him, with his blistered fingers from dealing with ropes all day strumming the guitar.

-the biggest elvis presley, beatles and rat pack fan in the world. he also loves louis armstrong as well as nat king cole. (he grew up with this music as his first big introduction to north american music as well as culture.)

-open communication and emotions are a big thing for him, he never wants anything to be misinterpreted and he tries his hardest to make sure neither him nor mary ever go to sleep angry with one another. they argue a decent amount, bc they both have wild tempers (johns is a flame that’s difficult to light but once it does he’ll have a vicious tongue of a temper, and mary’s is a quick lighter that can be easily put out but for the time that it burns holy shit she’s scary,) but they always work things out by talking to one another at the dinner table.

-this man lives and breathes sarcasm, to the point where people never really know if he’s being sarcastic or not (mary does, and it annoys him to no end.)

-always playing with his hair, or he’s playing with mary’s or dick’s. it’s become a little of a nervous habit for him, but also a way to relax.

-was always insecure about how short and scrawny he was as a kid, even now once he’s filled into pure muscle and but still a little short compared to others. however, he uses his body to his advtange though, he can easily be the strong man of the act, and can easily balance both dick and mary with one hand. he’s immensely proud of that, and shows it off as much as he can.

-just to annoy mary, he’ll slowly lift his son up and they’ll give the exact same puppy dog eyes and pout. mary will legit do anything they want (he wasn’t ready for mary to come in one day, blinking her beautiful green eyes and pouting, with dick settled on her hip doing the exact same thing as they ask for chocolate pancakes one morning. it’s fair to say he sprinted out of bed and straight to the kitchen.)

-despises hunting for sport and guns, his father owned an array of hunting guns that were always proudly polished and hung on the walls of their trailer. john fucking hated it, and was about to blow a fuse when one of the circus members decided to take dick on a hunting trip without asking. (he held dick close that night as he cried bc he didn’t understand why they had shot the deer when it looked so happy.)

-is the absolutle biggest crybaby when it comes to Heidi (the book) and has rewatched Kiki’s Delivery Service with dick like 30 times? he cries every time ( “mARY SHES SO SAD OH MY GOD AND SHE DOESNT UNDERSTAND J I J I ANYMOREEEE.”) (“sEE GRANDFATHER DOES CARE AND THE SYMBOLISM MARY THE SYMBOLISM.”)

-loves looking up at the stars, and liked to memorize their names as well as patterns as a kid. he was overjoyed to share this with dick, as they lay down on the roof of their circus caravan, point out constellations and tell their stories (dick would always perch himself on the tallest skyscraper in gotham, on a clear summer evening, just to get a one glance at the stars at again before the smog rolls in. he swears he saw cassiopeia once, but maybe he was just wishing he did. )

-is equally stressed by dick’s unprecedented love of making friends with the most random things, is also stressed because his son is this tiny kid who keeps getting himself stuck in bushes then runs home, covered in thorns but still has the biggest smile. john is usually on first aid duty, and he just knows that his kid would run into the sun exploding with a bright smile plastered on his face.

[xxcorndogxx]

Sandor Clegane x Reader||Chapter Four

After everyone's gone Joffrey speaks.

"Stand." He orders.

I place a hand on the arm of his chair to help. He suddenly smacks my hand away.

"You're a grown woman, you can stand on your own."

I place my palms on the ground and stand. I steady myself. My head raised only enough to look at the demented king.

"Apologize." He orders.

"I'm sorry, your grace."

"For?"

He sits looking down the table and not at me. As if he doesn't care.

"I'm sorry for disrespecting you at your dinner table, your grace."

"Hmmm." He gives a small chuckle.

"I don't know if I'm satisfied."

He turns to Sandor.

"What do you think dog? Has she done enough?"

Sandor turns to Joffery.

"I think she's done as your grace has asked." He responds.

I bite my lip. A nervous habit. Joffrey turns to me.

"I suppose she has."

I let out the deep breath I was holding.

"But that's not enough for me."

My words are caught in my throat. My eyes on Sandor. Help me damn it. No, he can't. If he helped me we'd both be dead.

"Hound." Joffrey waves his hand to him.

"I do not wish to do more than I need to. Hit her for me would you? Make it hard. I want her to know that she shan't disrespect her king."

I look at Sandor. He walks very close to me. I can't look at him.

"Do it," I whisper.

"What?"

"Just get it over with," I mumble.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't want you to get in trouble. And if it's you I know I'll be okay. Anyone else would hurt me much more than you." I whisper.

"Well.. be on with it!" Joffrey exclaims in anticipation.

He sits leaning forward waiting. Sandor raises his hand.

"Wait," Joffrey says.

He waits. His hand in the air. I look at Joffrey.

"Not the face. She's too pretty for that, I'd never hear the end of it from mother."

He tilts his head.

"How about a good spanking for a mannerless child." He grins.

Oh god.

"With that."

He points to the sword sheathed around Sandors waist. Sandor huffs and looks at me. Tears pricking my eyes. I nod. I am gently shoved to bend against the table. Joffrey stands walking around the table for a better view. I hear the sword unsheathed.

"Remove that."

I feel his rough, large hand push my dress up and over my backside.

"What a pretty little ass," Joffrey says. "Don't you think, dog?"

Sandor only grunts. I grip the table cloth and close my eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

I cry out feeling the pain of the cool metal making contact with my ass. The edge of the blade cutting the flesh a bit.

"Again!" He cheers.

He does it again. It hurts just as bad the second time.

"Lift her head. I wish to see the pain in her eyes."

After a moment Sandor's hand laces in my hair and holds my head up. The young king enjoying this. He stares in my eyes as he waves his hand for a third strike. I try to turn my head away as I cry out in pain.

"Such a pretty face in such agony." He taunts.

Before he can order any more there's a knock at the door. It's urgent and Joffrey lets me go. I rush down the hall as fast as I can. My dress slipping from my shoulder. I run right into the last man I'd want to see. Ser Gregor Clegane. I look up at the mountain of a man. His helm off. His eyes look at me like a predator looks at its prey. He stokes a finger down the side of my face. I turn my head away. I turn to escape but my arm is caught by him. He roughly pushes my back to a nearby wall with a thud. We stand on the stairs. I look around but there's no one. He moves to push my dress down from my chest.

"No."

I try to push him off but he doesn't budge. He only growls.

"No!" I cry.

He rips the fabric down from my chest. My breasts exposed to him. I punch and kick at him but he doesn't move an inch. He takes my writs in one of his own and pushes against me.

"No!" I cry.

His face grinning down at my bare skin. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sandor he stands at the top of the stairs.

"Sandor." I cry.

He draws his sword. Gregor drops me and I fall to the step. He draws his sword as well. They look at each other for a moment. I look up at Sandor. A newfound anger and determination in his eyes. His brother marches at him as he does. There swords meeting.

"Go, woman!"

He calls to me. I pull my dress up and hold it over my chest the best I can. I run to my chambers as fast as I can. I burst in and close the door behind me. My handmaiden waiting for me.

"My lady!" She cry's "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

I move to sit, but instead, I hiss in pain and stand.

"My lady." Her voice is compassionate and worried.

She removes my dress for me. She looks at my ass.

"Oh my lady, what happened?"

"That twat of a king," I explain.

"Oh, my lady... I'll fetch a washrag."

She returns with a wet cloth and a small bucket of water. She has me stand to lean against the bedpost as naked as the day I was born. While she cleans my cuts I let my hair down from the constricting braids.

"Ouch." I wince.

"I'm sorry, my lady."

"It's alright."

Suddenly the door opens, not harshly just suddenly. We both turn to see Sandor there. Kristine rises.

"I'll go fetch the ointment."

She quickly leaves the room. I stay there for a moment. I watch his eyes scan my body. He steps towards me. I turn away from him. His rough hand caresses down my hip he studies what he's done for a moment. He steps closer. I can feel his breath on my neck. His arms wrap around me pulling me back to his chest. His head in my neck.

"Sandor."

"You have to be more careful, I don't want anything like this to happen again." He warns.

His voice is comforting and concerned.

"I'm sorry," I mumble.

"Why in the seven hells are you apologizing, woman? I'm the one who did this to you." He states.

I turn and look at him.

"I'm sorry that you had to do this to me."

My hands on his chest.

"I know it hurt you to do this to me."

His hand on the small of my back. I softly place my hand against his scarred skin.

"I still don't get it, what's your deal, woman?"

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"Get what?" I ask.

"Why such a pretty damn thing like you would want such an ugly dog." He explains.

I bring my other hand up to his hair.

"Sandor," I whisper.

I pull his forehead to rest against mine.

"I don't think you're ugly." I start. "This scar is just that. A scar. It makes you no less you. You're still Sandor Clegane. You're not a dog or a monster, nor are you ugly. This." I graze my hand over his scar. "Is just a part of you. I want all of you Sandor Clegane. The good bits and the bad bits."

He does nothing for a moment. His hand curls in my hair. He tilts my head up. His lips pressing to mine. Not feverishly or roughly. But a gentle kiss.

"My lady." The shaken voice of my handmaiden meets my ears.

We pull apart and she turns to me. Her eyes occasionally looking at The Hound.

"Don't worry Kristine, he's not going to hurt you," I explain.

She nods. She moves me to lay down in the bed on my front. She takes the ointment from the container rubbing it over my cuts. I let out a groan. I hear a low whisper but I can't make it out. Only that is Sandor's deep voice. I hear my door open and close. I don't move or open my eyes I just relax. There are some sounds of light metal clanking. After a moment there's a rough hand softly rubbing over the injured cheek. Almost in a massage-like manner his hands rub against my ass. I let out a soft moan. Not sexual just relieved. After a few moments of this, it stops. Before I could turn to see what happened the hands returned. His hands rubbing up and down my thighs. Before I knew it his fingers brushed against my opening. A gasp escaped from between my lips. He rubbed his fingers against my opening.

"Sandor." I moan lightly.

He realizes what he's doing and stops. I feel my bed dip next to me. I roll over as he lays down on my bed. I scoot over to lay closer to him. I lay there for a moment considering my options.

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter five of seven – Carnistir/Tuilindien

Chapter length: ~2,400 words; Story rating: Teenage audiences

A/N: I wrote the first part of this in response to a prompt from a prompt list on Tumblr ('what are you doing' for Carnistir & Tuilë by @alkarinqque​) and added a much longer second part to include it in this fic.

My inspiration was this line from the Silmarillion: ‘Fëanor and his sons abode seldom in one place for long, but travelled far and wide upon the confines of Valinor, going even to the borders of the Dark and the cold shores of the Outer Sea, seeking the unknown.’

Warning for hunting and animal death, no detailed description.

AO3 LINK

*

Chapter V //  Discoveries

Carnistir comes home from his worksite to find Tuilindien at her writing desk. There is nothing unusual about that – the long desk before a large window in a garden-facing sitting room is one of her favourite places in the house – and neither is it unusual that she is so absorbed in her task that she doesn't rise when he comes to the room. Her only reply to his greeting is a splash of warmth in their wordless connection.

He goes to her, anyway, and kisses her cheek and caresses her hair that she has gathered in a coiled braid at the nape of her neck.

'Just a moment', Tuilindien says, writing a few more one-word lines on the sheet of parchment before her. There are several other similar sheets of paper strewn on the table: only one or two words per line.

'What are you doing?' Carnistir asks, curious, but trying not to read her papers over her shoulder. She doesn't like it when he does.

Tuilindien writes one more line and then turns towards him. 'Darling', she says, takes his hand, and tips her face up to be kissed. Carnistir obediently and happily bends down to do so, kissing her properly this time.

'What are you doing?' he repeats when their lips part. He settles more comfortably at her side, an arm around her shoulder, and tries again to not stare at her writing.

'Writing a packing list', she replies, still a little distracted, looking at her scribbles.

'A packing list?' Carnistir should be delighted Tuilindien showing interest in their approaching trip. He is taking her along to visit mansions of Aulë and to trek beyond them into the wilder regions of Valmar that are uninhabited and largely unexplored, though Carnistir's family has been exploring and mapping the regions there for years, bit by bit. It will be the first such journey for Tuilindien.

Maitimo, Tyelkormo and Curufinwë are coming with them. Carnistir would prefer to go without the last two but he can hardly stop them from coming, and at least Maitimo will be there to keep the peace. Carnistir has considered just going alone on a separate trip with Tuilindien but since she is an inexperienced traveller in the wild, it is much safer to go together with Carnistir's brothers. The food on a journey is always better when travelling with Tyelko, too.

(But Carnistir has been praying daily that Tyelko and Curvo will behave. He'll push them into a river if they don't.)

'I've never made a packing list', Carnistir says to Tuilindien.

'I made one when I was preparing to move here when we married. I went through all my possessions and decided what to take.' Tuilindien gathers the messy-for-her sheets of her list into one tidy pile. 'This didn't feel very different, since we are going to be gone a long time.'

Carnistir cannot help snorting. 'With the difference that we must carry all that we take with us on our horses, and it cannot be too much, as we cannot afford to tire them too much. Your list –' he takes the stack of papers from her hands and counts the sheets '– is far too long. Twice too long, at the very least.'

'Oh.' Tuilindien looks up at him, dismayed.

'You have to take many items off that list.' Oh, but he can never resist her when she looks at him like that. 'I can carry some of your things', he acquiesces. 'Some. I know from experience that I don't need much myself, and my Varnë is bigger and stronger than your mare.'

'But Mirwannë is very sure-footed in every terrain', Tuilindien defends her horse.

'And that is very good, very useful for our journey. But she cannot carry all this, nor can Varnë.'

Tuilindien wrings her hands in her skirts, her usual nervous habit that Carnistir finds very endearing. She does not feel or look too upset, though, as she says, 'I do not know what to leave off my list.'

'I can do it for you.' He kisses the top of her head and, in the happy contentment that he feels from her at that, decides that he dares to joke. Waving the sheets of parchment in his hand, he asks, 'Would you prefer me to throw away every other parchment, or to cross over every other item?'

'Do not make fun of me, Carnistir!' But Tuilindien laughs as she says, 'I have never been so far away from civilisation. How could I know what I need to take with me?'

'I'll tell you.' He brings another chair to her desk and sits down beside her, spreading the papers on the desk. 'Let us go through your things one by one. Where do you want to begin?'

*

It does not take many days of travelling for Carnistir to realise that he has made a horrible mistake going on this expedition with his wife and his brothers. Not because Curufinwë and Tyelkormo bully or tease Tuilindien – they are actually so eager to teach her wilderness skills that they behave rather decently towards her, puffing up like proud birds when Tuilindien praises their expertise – but because when travelling with three of Carnistir's brothers, he and Tuilindien do not have a single moment of privacy.

They try to find some. From the first day, Carnistir volunteers them for tasks that take them a little way away from the others, such as gathering firewood while Maitimo, Tyelkormo and Curufinwë make their camp ready for the night.

But because they go hand and hand and then Tuilindien kisses him in a particularly romantic glade where birds whose song is different from the song of birds in Tirion fill the air with their sweet chirping, and the trees around them are tall and alien compared to the tame trees of the city, they take so long that Curufinwë is sent to find out whether they have run into some danger.

'I cannot believe that you two started mauling each other before you gathered any firewood at all!' Curufinwë yells at them from the edge of the glade. 'Have you lost all your wits?'

Carnistir growls and points at the small pile of branches at his feet. 'Shove off, Curvo.'

'Fine!' Curufinwë turns on his heels, but he shouts over his shoulder, 'If you don't get back soon, I'll bully Maitimo until he agrees to come get you, and won't that be embarrassing for all three of you!'

Tuilindien lifts her head from Carnistir's chest where she buried it as soon as she heard Curufinwë's voice. 'I don't want Maitimo to have to come get us', she says.

Her lips are very pink, and her golden-brown skin so soft-looking in the gentle light of the glade.

Carnistir takes her face between his hands; her skin is soft and sweet, as ever. 'Soon', he promises. 'We'll leave soon. Not yet.'

'Not yet', breathes Tuilindien in agreement, and kisses him again, holding him as tight as she can.

They run into Maitimo on their way back to the camp, both their arms full of dry branches. Maitimo says nothing, just turns to walk back, and neither do Carnistir and Tuilindien.

Carnistir can feel the heat on his cheeks but he regrets nothing.

Another time he tries to make sure that they'll have time to do more than kiss. He has spent many days watching the play of emotions on Tuilindien's face as she sees new sights, walks new paths, encounters new animals and plants; and at night she settles in his arms, but curling up together under his wide cloak is all that they can do with his brothers within hearing distance.

At home they enjoyed each other daily unless it was a bad day for one of them but here on the roadless road, they can barely kiss without Tyelko offering sarcastic commentary or Curvo heckling them.

Maitimo rolls his eyes at them once, too. Carnistir is very disappointed in him.

One evening they pass a river and decide to make camp near it because everyone is sorely in need of a wash, all of them beginning to offend each other's noses. The forest is turning into more of a jungle in places, and the air is humid and hot and two days have passed since they found a body of water suitable for thoroughly washing. But there is no suitable camping place very near the river, none that passes muster for Tyelko who decides such things, so they camp several minutes away from it.

The river is wide and shallow, and its immediate environs seemed safe enough. Thus as soon as he and Tuilindien have done their necessary part of camp-building, he grabs his washing things, and hers, and her, and says over his shoulder to his brothers, 'We will be taking our time washing.'

Maitimo groans and Curvo swears, and no doubt Tyelko would too if he had not already gone hunting. Tuilindien squeaks in embarrassment, but she doesn't truly protest.

And when they get to the river, she strips herself of her dusty and sweaty travelling clothes as quickly as she possibly can and wades into the river, less shy about bathing in the wild than she has been on any earlier occasion.

Carnistir grins and splashes into the water right behind her, and they find a nice place where the current is not too much and the water is waist-deep, and they cling to each other and he is definitely planning on kissing her for a long, long time, and also…

He runs his hand down Tuilindien's side and under the water and between her legs, and she doesn't protest that either, no, she presses her forehead against his shoulder and holds on to him with shaking hands, and sighs, and makes little noises of pleasure, and –

And then Carnistir hears other noises. A flock of birds taking flight from bushes, his brain supplies without prompting. For a fraction of a second he allows himself to wonder how he could identify the noise when he has his hands on Tuilindien and, he'd have thought, all his senses too –

For a fraction of a second, and then he lifts his hand from Tuilindien and pushes her behind himself and turns to the bushes where he thinks the birds flew from, and tries to see whether there are any signs of a predator approaching, and tries to calculate how quick he can get to the shore and the hunting dagger that he left with his clothes –

But before he is more than one step towards the shore, there is the sound of a swift arrow, and a dead bird falls on the shore, close by where Carnistir and Tuilindien left their clothes.

'Thrice-damned Tyelko', Carnistir growls with a quick glance at Tuilindien.

She has gone deeper into the water. It comes up to her neck. Carnistir is glad. He wades to the shore.

'Tyelko, you rotten misfit!' he bellows as loudly as he can, arriving at the shoreline. 'Run back to the camp or I swear in the name of every single Vala that I will make you run.'

There is laughter from beyond the rivershore, from the forest.

'What is wrong with your head that you could not let us wash in peace!'

'I didn't mean to disturb', Tyelkormo shouts back. 'Rest assured, Moryo, I didn't sneak any peeks at you and your lady. I have no desire to see either of you naked. And that is why I will now get back to camp – I don't want you to humiliate yourself by chasing me naked through the forest. Bring the bird back to camp when you are done bathing.'

'Is this damned bird even edible?' Carnistir yells, eyeing the corpse at his feet with distaste.

There is no answer from Tyelko. Perhaps that most dreadful of Carnistir's brothers (at least at this very moment) has done as he promised and returned to camp at once.

With a snarling sigh, Carnistir turns around and wades back into the river and to Tuilindien who looks like she doesn't know whether to cry or laugh.

She says as much, and 'Will you wash my hair, Carnistir?', and, a little mournfully, 'I think that that is as much intimacy as I dare to have today. Your brothers are –'

'– a mistake', Carnistir finishes for her. 'Just… a mistake.'

Tuilindien laughs a little, and that is good, though not as good as it would have been to make her gasp and moan against his shoulder as he touched her.

He washes her long hair and she washes his back, and they kiss a little. When they return to camp, Carnistir, to his great satisfaction, manages to throw the dead bird so suddenly and forcefully at Tyelkormo that he doesn't notice before it hits him in the face.

That night Carnistir regrets going on this journey with Tyelkormo, Curufinwë and Maitimo. He should have persuaded Makalaurë and Tinweriel to come along, he muses as he sits keeping watch at night, Tuilindien's steady breathing by his side calming him down.

However long it took for them to find the time on their busy schedules, he should have asked them – they would have understood the need for occasional privacy, Carnistir is certain. Or he and Tuilindien should have gone alone, to some safer region.

But by the end of the journey Carnistir decides that it is all worth it, worth the unfulfilled desire to join his body with Tuilindien's, worth being unable to whisper soft words to her without being ridiculed by one of his brothers, worth missing the quiet routines of their life at home.

It is all worth it to see Tuilindien running into a field of exotic wildflowers and twining them in her hair, and the way her eyes shine and her mouth purses in concentration as she sits at Curvo's side as he teaches her how to draw maps – she proves an apt pupil – beside the campfire at night, and the warmth of her slender hand in his when they walk for a stretch to let their horses rest.

It is all worth it to discover new parts of the world together with her.

*

A/N: In Carnistir’s brothers’ defence: he and Tuilindien were being pretty obnoxiously lovey-dovey.

In the next chapter, Netyarë joins the family.I haven't finished the next chapter yet so I can't promise for certain when it will be posted, but I'll try and have it ready to update on Sunday or Monday.

[timelock97]

Love Without A Name

Chapter One: A Ring, A Big Decision

Word Count: 3651

Masterlist

Warnings: Language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone had told me that only two weeks after my first consultation at Heart Haven that I would have a possible match, I wouldn't have believed them. It took Hazel spamming my phone with calls and texts earlier that week that I finally decided to make the appointment to start the process, take a leap of faith and trust them.

She had practically skipped down the hall when I walked through the front door of the building, a smile spread wide across her face. "You'll really like him, believe me." She called down the hallway as I made my way toward her and followed her to our usual room for the appointment, and she did not disappoint.

It had been a little over a year since starting the process, and I was completely smitten for the stranger on the other side of the screen. Dating had failed him too, most of the girls he had tried to date had wanted him for one thing or another, some things he simply wasn't allowed, nor wanted, to share. He was kind, caring, and more. His family was a big thing in his life, he had a passion for his work, and in all honesty probably had a heart of gold from what he had done for charity. He loved animals, loved spending time with friends, enjoyed having a good laugh, and so much more that made this faceless stranger more attractive. Most importantly, he was looking for someone to start a life with, and he was hoping that would eventually be me.

The most interesting part of Heart Haven's process was their way of allowing their clients to be in contact with their significant other. They don't want you to fall in love with their looks, they want their clients to fall for who they really are. In the beginning, we had to compile a large amount of information, stuff that wouldn't give enough away for them to look you up online. After a while, we were allowed to "talk" to one another, with the rules of not giving out any personal information, not even our name. The two of us would talk during sessions when we could, usually through a questionnaire, which was annoying in the beginning. Once we had gotten passed the 'boring' stuff, we were able to learn more personal things about each other. This information was recorded and typed out for the other's convenience, and still included the playful banter between his counselor and himself, like: "What side of the bed do you sleep on?: Wherever I end up falling on at the end of the day? Mate, I literally share a bed with [dog's name], I get whatever she will allow."

Eventually we were allowed to download the company's app to keep in contact with him while at home. This particular app made sure to black out any personal info that shouldn't be shared with the other, which always made for a lot of gaps in our conversations.

-----

Him

Work has been tiring, to be honest. I've been _______ for the past few weeks, working on ________. Can't tell you what it is of course. How has work been for you, love?

Her

I hope it lets up soon, give you a break. Work has been good! ______________________, I really need to get out of the house though. Gonna go visit my family this weekend, maybe even take ___________ with me.

Him

You know, I can't wait until we can read through our text messages without having most of it blacked out. I cannot wait to meet you, love. I'm more than ready to give you all my love.

Her

Well, none of that was blacked out, handsome. And I couldn't agree more. <3

-----

As time went on, the anticipation to meet the man on the other side of the screen was starting to drive me completely insane. I had been more than tempted to ask Sam or Carly about it, but Sam had moved recently for work and Carly was getting ready to have a baby, so that really didn't work too well. It took a lot of time to finally discuss it with Hazel, honestly hoping that she would bring it up herself; but, after hitting the fifteen-month mark, I decided nothing would get done unless I brought it up. Hazel agreed to talk about it the following appointment, but from what I could tell, she was nervous to tell me. And now, I knew why.

"He lives in the UK." Hazel states, folding her hands over the table, her white, blonde curls falling over her shoulders as she leaned forward. "That's why we haven't sent you two out to meet each other in person yet."

I stare at her in disbelief before rubbing my hands over my face, fingers pushing the falling strands of hair back behind my ear as I finally meet her icy blue gaze. "He lives in England; he doesn't even live in the damn country. Hazel,-"

"We have our sister companies across the world, and after some comparison we realized that you two would make a perfect couple," she cuts me off, turning her screen to show off the stats. "It's our job to find the perfect to close-to-perfect matches-"

"What does that mean for the two of us then?" I state, looking at her in fear. "We have been going through this for months, Hazel!"

"Does the fact that he lives in another country change the way you feel about him-"

"No-"

"Then why is it a problem?" She leans back into her hair, watching my every move.

"How would a proper relationship work? We can't even date normally." My mind wanders and the black silhouetted figure that held the place in my daydreams of a life with a man I have been falling in love with, it seems so far away now. No first date where he smiles so brightly at me because, well, it's finally me. No introducing him to my parents, brothers, or friends. No nothing. I wanted this, I wanted to be with him. The thought of starting over felt like I had thrown so much time down the toilet.

"(Y/N), look at me." My eyes lift from my folded hands back to her face, where she is wearing a sympathetic smile. "We thought this through already. He wants to meet you!"

"Hazel-"

"Nope, let me finish." She puts a hand up, "He was just as upset as you in finding out-"

"He knew already?" My eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

She nods, "He wasn't allowed to share that he knew." She refolds her hands before continuing, "I have been talking to his counselor, and him and I came up with an idea. One that could allow you to be together sooner." She sighs, nails tapping on her desk. "However, it'll be a big step for the two of you."

"You sound like you're about to tell me we have to get married." A laugh slips past my lips, looking at her in disbelief. No way in hell is she about to tell me that I have to get married to him before we even meet properly.

"Actually," Hazel pushes away from her desk and walks over to a filing cabinet on the other side of the small room. Unlocking it, she reaches inside the third drawer before closing it and walking back to the desk. "That is exactly what we were thinking." She sets a small, blue velvet box on the table and slides it toward me as she perches herself on top of her desk. "It's all up to you, he had his counselor send this over a few weeks ago after being told of the plan."

I look at her in disbelief. My hand moves from its place in my lap to slowly take the box off the table. With shaky hands, I open it to see a diamond ring. It's not a large ring, a circular stone set in a rose gold braided band. It's simple, but elegant, and picked especially by a man who loves me just as much as I love him.

"He told his counselor that he knows that it is a big step, but he's more than willing if it means spending the rest of his life with you." In other words, he wants to marry you, even though he has no clue what you look like, or act like in person. "We can talk more about it at your next session if you would like. He will be back home by then, then we can all talk as a group and see what we want to do, yeah?"

I nod absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the ring set on my palm, "Yeah that- that's fine."

"Do you wanna take that home with you?"

My eyes snap up to meet hers, she laughs as I look at her in disbelief, "You seriously trust me not to lose it?"

"No, but I know that something that special is gonna be on your mind; you'll want it." Hazel stands from her relaxed position waiting beside her desk for me to get my bearings to walk out of her office and into the waiting room, the ring box still held tightly to my palm. "I will see you next week, Monday remember?"

Nodding, I give her a small smile. "Yeah, I'll see you then." My sneakers thump softly against the hardwood floor as I walk. I grab my wool coat and scarf before opening the heavy door, being met with the cold January air. Carefully walking down the icy steps, I make my way down the street to the parking structure. It doesn't take too long to walk past the guards at the gate and inside. Once settled into the small SUV, I pull the box out from its place in my pocket. Opening the small box again, I admire the ring, nervously taking it out of the box and moving it around in the dim light of the car. Biting my lip, I slip it onto my ring finger. The perfect fit, he really had you in mind when picking it.

Sugarland's Stuck Like Glue blaring from my phone speaker causes me to jump, the ring box falling into the cup holder between the seats as I reach across the middle console to dig for it inside my bag. Once in hand, I notice the name illuminating the screen, Celine Turner, one of your very best friends. "Hello, this is (Y/N)."

"I know it's you, dipshit, I called you." Her voice carries through the speaker, attitude dripping off of her tongue.

"Sorry," I chuckle into the receiver leaning my head back against the headrest, "Force of habit. What's up?"

"I need a girl's night, can I come over? I'll pick up food, and I have some Marvel movies in my bag I think-"

"If you don't, I do, and yeah, that'd be great. I actually need someone to talk to. I'm not home, but should be in an hour-"

"I thought you got out of work at four on Fridays?"

"I do, I, uh," I scratch my head before placing my keys into the ignition, "had an appointment."

She doesn't speak for a minute, "If you were at the gyno you can tell me, I'm not gonna judge-"

"No, I didn't go visit my lady doctor. You have a key, I'll see you at seven, okay?"

"Cool, oh, by the way, I'm spending the night and I have alcohol too. See you soon!"

The sound of her hanging up causes a soft laugh to fall past my lips, rolling my eyes at her antics. I buckle up after discarding my phone back into the bag sitting in the passenger seat before backing out of the spot and heading over to the exit. Waving to the guard again, I turn back onto the street and head to the highway. The ring on your left hand sparkling in the passing street lights.

When I finally pull up to the apartment building, I take the time to suck in a deep breath and place the ring back inside the box before hiding it into my bag. Doing some last-minute double checking, I make my way inside the building, locking the car behind me.

Two flights of stairs and a fight with the sticky lock to get into the apartment later, I finally make it inside. The sound of Thor: Ragnarok playing from the living room and the smell of Mexican from the little place in town immediately brings a smile to my face. Phoebe launches herself off the couch, where she had been curled up in Celine's lap, and makes her way towards the front door, meowing loudly and rubbing herself against my legs as I lean down to scoop her into my arms.

"Yo! I have our feast over here when you're ready to start. Go get comfy and we can get started!"

"It looks like you got started without me, dude-"

"I was hungry!" She laughs, taking a sip of her wine.

Rolling my eyes, I make my way to my room, tossing Phoebe on my bed before stripping and redressing in a pair of navy sweatpants and a black tank top. Phoebe bounds behind me as I make my way back into the living room and plop down on the couch next to Celine. "Thanks for picking up food, what's the occasion?"

Celine fiddles with her fork, not meeting my gaze, "Uh, I had a date, but he stood me up-"

"That asshole!" I yell, watching as she begins to giggle, the main reason for the outburst.

"It's okay, I didn't think it would go anywhere anyways. He was an idiot, and he likes the opposing football team."

"Damn, well, he wasn't worth it." I state, taking a bite of my food. The two of us eat in silent for a few minutes before she speaks up again.

"What about you? Any guys you have an eye on? You haven't really talked about guys with me for a while."

I shrug, deciding it was time I told someone about my little problem besides Sam, who at this point hadn't talked to me in about six months. "Um, no dates as of late. Been talking with someone though-"

"You have been holding out on me! (Y/N)!" She pushes my arm, nearly knocking my food out of my hands, causing a squeak to leave my barely parted lips.

I set the plate down glaring playfully at her as she laughs, making me bark out a laugh and playfully fighting back now that there would be nothing to stain my carpet. "Well I wanted to wait until I had a name to tell you about it!"

She stops fighting back, a look of confusion crossing her face, "What do you mean you were waiting till you had a name? You don't know his name?"

No turning back now. "Uh, yeah, I don't know his name-"

"How? How long have you two been talking?"

I fiddle with my fingers, looking at her softly out of the corner of my eye. "Over a year-"

"Over a year! (Y/N), you should know his name by now, why on Earth do you not know?!"

"Because that's how Heart Haven works, Celine." I bury your face in your hands, suddenly feeling embarrassed that I had kept this from her, and more importantly everyone else. When she doesn't speak up, you continue. "Look, no one knows. Remember Sam Simmons? From the bar?" I watch as she nods, eyebrow raised in curiosity. "She ended up telling me about this matchmaking service and I was like 'what the hell, what could go wrong," and, I actually met someone." My lips curl into a love-sick smile, man I had it bad for him. "He's amazing, everything I thought I wanted in a man and more. I mean, he has his flaws, who doesn't? I really really  like him. We talk a lot, for over a year now-"

"How long, exactly?"

"Uh, a year and two-ish months?"

"And I'm the first to know?"

I nod my head, hair falling into my eyes. "It's kind of embarrassing having to tell people 'yeah, I'm taken but I have no clue what he looks like, sounds like, or what his name is.'"

Celine moves so that one leg is tucked underneath her while the other hangs off the couch. "Are you going to meet him soon?"

"I want to, but here's the problem, he doesn't live here-"

"Then let's get in the car and take a road trip!" She throws her arms into the air, grabbing her phone, "I can call into work and we can leave tomorrow morning-"

"Celine, it would be more like getting a passport and catching a plane."

She shifts so that she is closer, her eyebrows furrowed together. "He doesn't live in the country? Then where does he live?"

"England." Celine leans into the couch more, shutting her eyes. She opens and closes her mouth trying to find the right words. "I found out today, and it turns out that he's known for a while."

"If he knew why didn't he tell you? Wait, are you two like actually talking  talking?"

"We text, it's a weird app that we text from that blocks out personal info if we type it out. I can show you-"

"Yeah, that might be good." She states, "And grab the wine bottle, I think we are gonna need it!"

I roll my eyes while retrieving the phone, along with the ring box which gets slid into my sweatpants pocket, and the wine. Handing her the phone, she swipes out the password and smiles, seeing that the app had been left open. Her face continues to hold a soft smile, that slowly gets bigger as she reads through the messages.

"It looks like you two know a lot about each other, and he sounds like he loves you." She smiles brightly, turning my phone in her hand to show me the screen, "Also, can we talk about the fact that he calls you 'love'?" She places her hand that is still holding the phone to her chest, sniffing before wiping a fake tear away. "That is so fucking precious."

"Yeah, he's been busy so we haven't talked much in the past few days. He keeps up with it though."

"Now I wanna meet him, gotta make sure he's perfect for you-"

"Dude, I have to meet him first, and uh, I got some news about meeting him today, actually-"

"Yes! Get on that plane! Meet your man! Be happy-"

"It's more complicated than that, Cel."

She shifts on the couch before handing back my phone. "Yeah, I guess long distance would be kinda shitty-"

"He's ready to start a life with me-" I hint.

"You're ready to start a life with him, so why are you fighting it-"

"Celine, he asked me to marry him."

Celine stops her excited rambling. She stares at me, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Did you say that he asked you to marry him?" I nod. "When did he ask you?!"

Sighing, I fish out the box from inside my sweatpants pocket, holding it out to her to take. "He decided a few weeks ago when his counselor told him of the potential plan, he bought a ring and sent it to me through the company." Celine grabs the box and opens it, eyes going wide and mouth falling open wider. "I think he was waiting for them to tell me about him not living in the country. Simply because it'll be a huge decision-"

"You'd probably go with him back to England?"

"I don't know!" I run a hand through my hair, "Nothing has been discussed. Hazel just told me to think about it and that he would be back on Monday so we could all talk together, and I don't know what I'm going to do. All I know is that I want to be with him."

"Then I think you have already made your decision-"

"But I don't know what the consequences will be!" I throw my hands up in the air in annoyance. Why couldn't this just be simpler. "I have spent so much time finishing school, finding a job, trying to find love and now that I think I have it, it's so far away. What will my family say, or my friends, the people from school-"

"(Y/N), you need to stop thinking about what others will think and be selfish for once. You are always giving back, doing things for others. Hell, you help people for a fucking living." She pauses to take my hands in hers, placing the ring box between us. Her voice softens, "You love him, so what if people don't approve. If you're happy, those people will eventually come around. Furthermore, I'm sure he feels the same. Now," she reaches between us to grab the box, placing it in my hands, "without thinking about it, what are you going to do?"

I pop open the box, taking the ring out and pinching it between my fingers. He picked that for you, and no one else. I slide the ring onto my finger, where it already feels natural to be. "I think I'm gonna marry him."

"Good, glad we got that settled. Now," Celine claps her hands together before reaching for something on the table. "Do you wanna watch Captain Marvel or Iron Man 3?"

I laugh and shake my head as she stands to change the movie, thankful to have that off my chest, and feeling like I was on cloud nine. I'm getting married. Soon, I'll be meeting the man behind the screen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Updates will be every Sunday and Thursday! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment!

@revenantwriting​ | @bellagrayson-wayne​ | @jackiehollanderr​ | @snowxbarryxendgame​ | @let-me-luve-you​ | @mybitchborky​ | @linnyalou​ | @fanficscuziranout​​ | @literallytrashhhhhh​ | @akweenbitch​

Chapter Two

[emeraldtawny]

OC Character Sheet: Eleanor

thank you @chiefofpigs for the inspiration and permission to use your template for this :3

All made on picrew

NAME: Eleanor Lancaster

AGE: 24

HEIGHT: 5’6

HAIR: Long slightly wavy hair that reaches just above her hips when fully down. Chestnut brown hair

EYES: Lavender. Usually wears contacts when she wants to be discreet because she knows they attract attention.

OTHER PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS: Slim yet muscular build. She has a small mole on the top of the shell of her left ear and is embarrassed that it’s her only beauty mark, so she usually tries to cover it with her hair. Has a habit of sticking her tongue out between her teeth and biting it softly when she’s deep in thought.

BASIC PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: Observant, prefers to stay out of the way where she can but if you cross paths with her or someone she cares about, then you’re gonna get the most severe tongue lashing of your life (she does not mince words). Calm, patient and level-headed, yet explosive when she’s angry. Not one for laughing so when she does, it’s a treat (she squeaks at the end of her laughs). Incredibly mature for her age, but has a foul mouth and one killer death stare.

BASIC BACKGROUND DESCRIPTION: Grew up in Black Territory as an heir to her family business from birth. The Lancasters made a name for themselves as master cons and swindlers in Cradle, stealing money and then gambling it (very clearly rigged gambling) to increase the profit. Through some...family complications (it’s a secret...for now ;3), Eleanor ratted out her family to the Black Army and escaped to Central to live under the radar, doing odd jobs to make a living. And on one of those jobs, she meets...

PAIRED WITH: Edgar Bright

Q&A

Q: What does your OC normally wear?

A: Almost never without her gold hoop earrings or some variation of gloves (fitted combat gloves when she’s training or white/black lace gloves for formal occasions). A fan of high-necked well-fitted ¾ lengths or long-sleeved shirts, especially for training. Her hair is usually tied back in a simple ponytail or a side-braid; rarely wears her hair down unless she has to. Prefers blouses and skirts to dresses, but feels most comfortable wearing pants.

Q: What would your OC wear on a special night?

A: This girl knows her fashion. Halter neck or sleeveless dresses are her go-tos, usually scooped low at the back. Gloves (as mentioned above) and short heels so she can still run if need be. She knows she has a nice body and uses it to her advantage, even if she secretly can’t handle the attention it draws to her (she’s conditioned herself to not reduce into a blushing mess over time from her family work).

Q: Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)?

A: At first when she was temporarily staying with the Red Army, she hardly spoke to anyone aside from Edgar. However, after coming out to grab a glass of water in the middle of the night and seeing Kyle drinking himself stupid, she couldn’t help joining in, having a soft spot for liquor herself. She now occasionally joins him in his drinking sessions when she needs to let off steam. Also got close to Zero because he was nervous (and slightly suspicious) of her relationship with Edgar. Over time, they warmed to each other and when Zero realised she’s quite an adept fighter, he offered to train her. Seeing her join in with Zero and his troops on training sessions is...an experience, lemme tell ya.

Q: What is your OC’s greatest fear?

A: Her family coming back into her life and destroying the makeshift peace she has made for herself. She’s also terrified that this happiness she’s found will be ripped from her entirely and that it’s only a matter of time before she goes back to her old dreary life. Luckily for her, Edgar’s fears seem to mirror hers so he empathises. The two use each other to lean on and get through when their thoughts take a turn for the worse.

Q: What secrets does your OC have?

A: Eleanor…has a lot of secrets. The first person she ever opened up to about her life growing up was Edgar, but she still hasn’t told him everything…nor has she told him just how much her family is screwed up and how it has shaped her views more than she realises. These will be elaborated in a fic (by request)…when I have the time fsdjgnkdjgnsr. As for softer secrets, when she first started staying with the Red Army before a residence in Red Territory was available to her, she would sneak out into the Central Quarter to search for the busking musicians and sit down nearby to just listen and drift away to the music. Zero accidentally found out but has kept his silence about seeing her, both from her and Edgar.

Q: What kind of mother/father would your OC be?

A: She would be a strict yet fair mother and teach her kids the importance of standing up for themselves at a young age, something she wished she had learnt sooner. Especially considering Edgar would try to dote on his kids and increase their blood sugar levels, Eleanor will be there to balance it out. Will always hold her child/children’s hand(s) and swing her arm with theirs all cute-like.

Q: Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

A: The one real one-on-one interaction she had with Jonah she did not enjoy. She found him pompous to the point of insanity and made Edgar laugh when she said to wanted to rip the silver spoon from his mouth and stick it somewhere else. A similar incident occurred when Edgar arranged for her to meet Luka and when she quickly made the connection they were brothers, it did not bode well. Luckily for Luka, he’s not so much like his brother that Eleanor couldn’t hold a conversation with him, a fact that made Luka sigh with relief when he was told.

Q: What are some of your OC’s motivations?

A: Her freedom, her desire to live without being controlled, “and…..um….Edgar..specifically Edgar’s smile. Wh-what?! Don’t look at me like that, you fucking bellend!”

Q: What is your OC’s hobbies/interests?

A: Likes training and music. Has gradually accepted Edgar’s love of animals and goes with him to feed the pigeons and the Creeks. Admits she really doesn’t do much outside of that so is reading books in an effort to find new things that interest her.

Q: What would your OC’s favourite genre of music be?

A: Classical. She has a soft spot for violins especially.

Q: Would your OC accept hugs from someone?

A: If you tried to give her one without knowing, except to be thrown to the ground. If she at least expects it, she can accept it. The only hugs she truly enjoys are the ones from Edgar, though.

[foxrun-fluffery]

FIRST

Tag: @sdavid09 @walking-potter-davinci-games @sherala007

First

Bofur has been living in this modern Earth for a few years now, Riordan was in school, and doing quite well. His mother was an excellent tutor, and Bofur had found work on a production line. It paid well, was very straightforward, and left him plenty of time to spend with his family. Piper still worked at her coding job, but she was certainly out of her cave, as she called it, more often now. He could see that, for the two had taken up hiking in the mountains that rose behind their home, and he could see her body had gotten leaner, stronger, but had not lost its softness nor femininity. Mahal, she was a beautiful woman! Though he had been mildly surprised to see all the fuss she went through to color her hair the way she did. He thought it a silly ritual, for he didn’t care what color her hair was, he would love her if it all fell out. But she was happier with it this way. That’s what mattered to him, his family was happy, safe, and well provided for.

Everything was going well, in a pleasant routine.

Until that routine was interrupted. By the strangest little thing. It had happened nearly a year ago now. He pulled on his beard gently as he thought back on it.

Bofur had found it on the counter, and picked it up, still as curious as ever, turning it over this way and that. He wasn’t certain what it was, and went to find his lovely wife. “Piper?” He got her attention, and lofting his brows questioningly, held up the little... thing. He hadn’t a clue what else to think of it as.

“Oh!” Piper seemed startled to see it, and she jumped up, taking it from him and dropping it into the trash can under her desk. “It’s… well, I was just curious.”

“Abou’ what?” Bofur asked, in a patient tone he took on when he knew Piper forgot he didn’t know what something was. At first he had often gotten quite frustrated, but soon they had come to understand one another better. Now, at times like this, he knew he had to prompt her for explanations a little bit, and she did her best to quit assuming he knew how everything worked in this world. Now he just needed to discern why did she look so nervous. Was something wrong? Worry crept into his mind and his heart beat heavily in his chest.

“It’s… an ovulation test, I’ve been doing them for a while now.” Piper explained. “We talked about our family growing, and I went off the birth control, remember?”

Ovulation? He knew that term from the time he had asked her about her birth control, and gotten a very long and horrifyingly detailed explanation. It had been very educational. “Aye,” Bofur nodded, squashing down a giddy feeling starting up in him. She hadn’t said she was pregnant, but he was hopeful. “And…?” When she didn’t reply, he set the little thing down and stepped closer, reaching out to her. “Amrâlimê?”

Piper sighed and shook her head. “They keep coming back negative. What if I can’t have more children!?” She blurted out tearfully, her emotions she had bottled up over the matter sweeping over her in a rush. Bofur drew her out of her chair and into his strong arms and she cried on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’d love ye no less if all we have is Rio. I love him as me own, ye know tha’.” That boy was as much his world as his mother was, and though they were not blood, they were family. He loved being a father.

“Aye,” Piper whined piteously, copying his accent as she did when she was being cute with him. It made her smile when he chuckled over it. “I love you.” And she meant it, so very much.

Now, sitting on the garden bench with his pipe, a habit he staunchly refused to give up, he smiled as he watched his wife walk over to him, bringing his thoughts back to the present. “Hello there, ye beautiful lass. Would ye loike t’ sit with an old codger?”

Piper laughed gently and rolled her eyes at him, sitting lightly on his lap. Her arm draped around his shoulders with comfortable ease and her fingers brushed along one of his thick braids. “Bo, I have something.” From her wooly knit cardigan pocket she drew out a familiar little test. “Look!”

Bofur set his pipe stem between his teeth, politely turning his head away from her slightly, to direct the smoke away from her face, he knew it made her cough. Taking the test, he eyed the little window on it, then raised a brow at her. “Aye…?” Did she expect him to know what these little symbols meant? She hadn’t once explained it to him, so he waited for her to clarify, though he had that rising giddy feeling again. But not wanting to disappoint her should this not be the answer he hoped, and longed for, he kept that feeling under a tight watch.

“It’s our first yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

The pipe fell as his mouth hung open. “Lass… ye mean…?”

“We can start trying again!”

Bofur laughed gleefully, sweeping her up into his arms and dancing around with her in wild circles. “Oh! I’ve never stopped!” He teased her, pulling her in and kissing her soundly. “Rio’s got class fer four more hours…” His dark eyes sparkled with mischievous lust, and he set her down only to pull her near, roughened fingers gently pushing the edge of her blouse up.

“That’s plenty of time,” She agreed, slipping off her cardigan and reaching for his belt.

They never even left the garden…

Some time later they discovered the dropped pipe had spilled its contents on the wooden bench, and they had smoldered a dark spot onto the finished wood. However whenever either of them saw it, they would just smile a little and leave it be.

[rksora]

AS OF 2019    ━━━━━━━━        template ┊ @astraofrph  ◞  ❤

❥ ┊ BASIC INFORMATION  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   full name  park jiwon ┊ 박지원

›   pronunciation 

›   meaning

›   reasoning  jiwon is a popular name, her mom wanted her to be popular ( lol joke’s on her! )

›   nickname ( s )

›   preferred name ( s )

›   birth date march 20, 1999

›   age  nineteen

›   zodiac  pisces  ・ water sign ┊ the fish. pisces are sensitive little weirdos. they’re intuitive and emotional, passive, and deeply concerned with what people think of them; they have a tendency to be fairly self-depreciating as a result of this. pisceans are gentle and kind, but pessimistic too, and will easily compromise on their beliefs if they think it will make other people like them.

›   gender / pronouns  female ┊ she / her / hers

›   romantic orientation  biromantic

›   sexual orientation  bicurious

›   nationality  korean

›   ethnicity  korean

›   current residence  hapjeong-dong, mapo-gu, seoul

›   living conditions  adequate to agreeable ┊ practical for a one person

›   trainee title ( s )  little bird

❥ ┊ BACKGROUND  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   birth place  dongjak-gu, seoul

›   hometown  jingwan-dong, eunpyeong-gu, seoul

›   social class  lower middle class ┊ when she was younger she was closer to the poverty line until her mom met her step-dad

›   education level completion @ unnamed high school 

›   father  kim sangil, 50 ┊ business man

›   mother  park yerin, 46 ┊ housewife, part-time at butcher shop  

›   step-father   ham kihyun, 45 ┊ butcher shop owner 

›   half-sibling ( s )  ham jisung, 10 ┊ primary school kid  

›   birth order  ( 1 ) jiwon ( 2 ) jisung

›   children

›   pet ( s ) her brother, jisung, has a pet goldfish and while jiwon has always wanted a dog, she isn’t financially equipped to have one

›   other important relatives

›   previous relationships  ( 16 / 17 ) she dated a boy in high school who took her heart and her purity and threw it into the dirt

›   criminal record

❥ ┊ OCCUPATION & INCOME  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   primary source of income  trainee under kt entertainment ( as of november 12, 2018 )

›   secondary source of income  sometimes her mom sends her money but jiwon sends it right back so her mom compromised and asks her to come home to pick up food 

›   tertiary source( s ) of income  she still gets her checks from the thrift shop because boss yang thinks she can’t take care of herself ( one of these days she’s going to give him a stern talking to !! )

›   approximate amount per year

›   content with their job ( or lack there of ) ? somewhat, she’s neither disinterested or wholly elated. she’s just ... passing time, oddly enough.

›   past job ( s )  jjangtime thrift shop employee

›   spending habits  spends a little too carelessly at the gs25 near her house in hapjeong ; is sad that she didn’t utilize her discount at jjangtime as well as she should have

›   most valuable possession  ... the ‘letters’ she thinks her dad sent her but were really from her mom 

❥ ┊ SKILLS & ABILITIES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   physical strength she’s 49kg of weak muscle

›   stamina 0 / 10 as referenced through her Fainting at practices

›   teamwork 8 / 10 at teamwork as she’s usually a Follower

›   talents  dancing, faking a Smile, somehow keeping friends even though she’s a pretty shitty friend?

›   shortcomings  gets winded really easily ; doesn’t have a lot of ambition / determination ; feels doubtful and anxious in unfamiliar settings ; does not like Change

›   language( s )  korean ( fluent ), english ( conversational ), ksl ( basic )

›   can they : drive / jump-start a car / change flat tire / ride a bicycle / swim / play an instrument ( and what instrument ) / play chess / braid hair / tie a tie / pick a lock / etc:

❥ ┊ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS  ━━━━━

›   face claim  park jiwon, fromis9

›   eye color brown

›   hair color ( naturally dark brown / black ) but dyed blonde with hot pink tips

›   hair type / style thin, usually down ; slightly wavy if air-dried

›   glasses / contacts  wears ‘fashion’ glasses that don’t have a prescription, sometimes

›   dominant hand  left-handed

›   height / weight / build  159cm, 5'2" ┊ 49kg, 108lbs ┊ petite

›   exercise habits  prior to working at kt, she had none, but since then has actively gone to yoga every afternoon

›   skin tone  fair / tans easily

›   tattoos

›   piercings  pierced ear lobes

›   marks / scars two moles on her left shoulder blade that looks like a colon ( : )

›   notable features  dimpled right cheek that is prominent whenever she smiles a little

›   usual expression withdrawn, anxious ┊ example

›   clothing style  casual ┊ thrift shop hipster

›   jewelry

›   allergies  bananas, peanuts

›   body temperature  neither runs too hot nor too cold, but does get cold easily

›   diet whatever at the convenience store for Sale is a Go

›   physical ailments

❥ ┊ PSYCHOLOGY  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   jung type  isfp / isfj ┊ emotional af but they don’t show it ; softies at heart ; more attentive than they let on ; still, reading between the lines ain’t their forte ; aesthetics master ; are more spontaneous and fun than they look ; have quirky interests that may shock you 

›   enneagram type

›   moral alignment  chaotic good

›   temperament  melancholic ┊70% ; phlegmatic ┊30%

›   element  water

›   primary intelligence type  intrapersonal intelligence 

›   approximate iq

›   mental conditions / disorders

›   sociability 7 / 10

›   emotional stability  5.5 / 10

›   obsession ( s )  

›   compulsion ( s ) 

›   phobia ( s )  scared of heights ( includes: roller coasters, being high on an escalator, plane, building )

›   vice / addiction ( s ) 

›   drug use

›   alcohol use  2 / 10 ┊ a social drinker who will only drink when around others who are

›   prone to  deprecating thoughts, sarcastic remarks, silently judging from the side, being more Fake than one would expect

❥ ┊ MANNERISMS  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   speech style 

›   accent  slight accent when speaking english

›   quirks  likes to crack her back, gets annoyed easily, wears glasses but doesn’t need them, types texts with her thumb

›   hobbies  dancing, fashion, origami, filming, watching movies, telling ghost stories, 

›   habits  heavy breath that blows her hair away from her face, full pouts, deadpan expression, eye rolls, small fists, constantly apologizing, 

›   nervous ticks  pinching, chewing bottom lip, biting inside of her cheek

›   drives/motivations  wanting to prove people wrong ( 25% )

›   fears  of heights, of never being good enough, of disappointing people who mean most to her

›   positive traits  humble, loyal, selfless

›   negative traits  pessimistic, realistic, blunt

›   sense of humor  sarcastic / memes

›   do they curse often? ... perhaps

›   catchphrase ( s )  “ can you not. ”  /  “ why. ”  /  “ what the fuck. ”

❥ ┊ FAVORITES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   activity  watching movies

›   animal  capybara

›   beverage  strawberry milk ┊  brown sugar milk tea

›   book

›   celebrity

›   color  black / red

›   designer lol she’s too poor, sorrys

›   food  caramel candies, samgyetang, kimchi jjigae, fried chicken and pickled radish, ice cream

›   flower  sunflower

›   gem  (maybe her birthstone?)

›   holiday  halloween  ∙  children’s day  ∙  black day

›   mode of transportation  normally uses the bus; though, on the weekends is more prone to using the subway

›   movie  can’t buy me love  ∙  the beauty inside  ∙  my sassy girl ∙  100 days with mr. arrogant  ∙  200 pound beauty  ∙  the way he looks  ∙  pulp fiction  ∙  fight club  ∙  moulin rouge  ∙  romeo & juliet  ∙  superbad  ∙  slumdog millionaire  ∙  moulin rouge  ∙  the grand budapest hotel  ∙  the martian  ∙  gone girl

›   musical artist  주영 jooyoung  ∙  크러쉬 crush  ∙  헤이즈 heize  ∙  frank sinatra  ∙  stevie wonder  ∙  아이유 IU  ∙  애쉬뮤트 ashmute  ∙  bevy maco  ∙  콜드 colde  ∙  쎄이 saay

›   quote / saying  expect nothing and you will never be disappointed.

›   scenery  fresh snow on the ground

›   scent  

›   sport  volleyball, i guess

›   sports team

›   television show  the good place  ∙  my fair lady gongshim  ∙  cunning single lady  ∙  meteor garden  ∙  sex education

›   weather  cold / chilly

›   vacation destination  somewhere outside of seoul, preferably easily accessible via a car or bus ride

❥ ┊ ATTITUDES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   greatest dream  to get her father to Notice her

›   greatest fear  disappointing those she Loves most, Not being good Enough, being Replaced ( in that order )

›   most at ease when  doing nothing, laying in bed, watching movies

›   least at ease when  trying to adjust to change, in unfamiliar settings, when she says the Wrong thing, foot in the mouth disease

›   worst possible thing that could happen  when she gets her foot in the mouth disease

›   biggest achievement ( currently ) becoming a trainee at kt

›   biggest regret ( currently ) becoming a trainee at kt

›   most embarrassing moment  her mom groveled at @rkxhyunjin​‘s feet to tutor her in front of his entire school during the afternoon

›   biggest secret  she’s a child out of wedlock and her dad pretty much paid her off to not contact him

›   top priorities  ( 1 )  proving to her dad that she’s not a waste of time  ( 2 ) being more considerate of others  ( 3 ) start doing better and taking being a trainee seriously 

[brumatifl]

— basics .

▸ is your muse tall/short/average?

Compared to like 99.9% of her friends, she’s the short one.

▸ are they okay with their height?

Yes and no? Because she’s learned to love the concept of catching her opponent off guard. Most of her tall (FREAKISHLY TALL) friends want to dot over and such but are take aback when they see how Yuki is very much capable of doing things on her own. This girl is ready to climb the counter to get to the top shelf, use magic if she needs to just to prove her point.

▸ what’s their hair like?  

Yuki’s hair is white, reaches her hips and is naturally straight with a small wave towards the end of it. It’s soft to the touch, and when you run your fingers through it, it’s mostly tangle free till you reach the end. It’s not thin nor thick, it’s just average? If that makes sense. Her hair is the most pampered thing out of her body, if we can say that. Special shampoo, conditioner, all the oil/lotion treatments and she stresses on the fact it’s all either homemade, or handmade, nothing synthetic coming from a factory. 

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming?

on a normal day: Brushed, maintained, style into either a bun or a pony tail or some kind of braid.

for certain occasions: I’m not expert so I don’t know much terminology but she has lots of hair and uses that for her advantage. Her hair is always the first thing that catches people’s eyes because of the detail and effort that’s been put into it. 

▸ does your muse care about their appearance?

She cares as much as an average person would. On special occasion she does want to look presentable, but not the center of attention. But on regular days she dresses depending on how she feels and doesn’t care if it’s casual or a little dressy as long as she feels comfy in it. 

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them?

Yuki right now is at a point where she’s trying to overcome that. In the past, she did care and wanted to be a person that was accepted even if it meant she bent herself out of her regular shape. Nowadays, she’s learning to be herself and whether it pleases people or not should be the least of her concern. Yuki is now wanting to accept herself and those around her who are willing to stay regardless of her change, those are the ones she cherishes. 

— preferences

▸ indoors or outdoors? ||>> OUTDOOR

▸ rain or sunshine?  ||>> RAIN

▸ forest or beach? ||>>  FOREST

▸ precious metals or gems?  ||>> GEMS

▸ flowers or perfumes?  ||>> FLOWERS

▸ personality or appearance?  ||>> PERSONALITY

▸ being alone or being in a crowd?  ||>> BEING ALONE

▸ order or anarchy? ||>> ORDER

▸ painful truths or white lies?  ||>> PAINFUL TRUTHS.

▸ science or magic? ||>> MAGIC

▸ peace or conflict?  ||>> PEACE

▸ night or day?  ||>> NIGHT

▸ dusk or dawn? ||>> BOTH

▸ warmth or cold? ||>> COLD

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends?  ||>> FEW CLOSE FRIENDS

▸ reading or playing a game? ||>> READING

— questionnaire

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits?

She pulls on her hair when nervous/antsy/uncomfortable. 

Can be too nurturing, gotta remind her to back up sometimes. 

Wants to bear all the hits, all the bad and protect her friends/family from them.

When someone finds out she’s a witch, the instant thought is ‘they hate me, they’re scared of me, i’ll live up to that and make it a reality so they won’t be hurt. so i won’t hurt.’ 

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them?

The loss of her parents at a fairly young age of course had a huge impact on her childhood but seeing as she’s slowly learning and trying to develop herself and move on, it doesn’t play that huge of a role here on tumblr anymore. It’s more the loss of the people she’s recently met and grew close to that affects her the most. No one has died (yet), but they’ve either moved away and haven’t contacted her, told her they no longer want to be associated with her because of what she is..it’s all just making her more hesitant to approach new people or to consider making new bonds. 

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has?

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES WITH HER DAD. Those are the most fond of memories. And her last two years of high school, those were good memories too. The field trips, the contests, the festivals, the events, the games she’s watched for her friends. That’s what I can think of for now. 

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill?

 Easy? No. Does she do it? Yes, when she has to and there’s no other option. Yuki’s hands are clean, she’s spilled blood and she’s not proud of it. But some circumstances drive her against a wall and she has no other option. 

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down?

She curls onto herself, legs and arms, as if she’s trying to hold herself together and not lose herself to the endless stream of thoughts in her mind. Things you’ll notice all the time is: her face is covered and hidden by her hands/arms, the ground around her slowly starts to frost over but it doesn’t expand just a maybe a foot or two around her, the air is also colder than average. Yuki becomes hostile and defensive, if anyone tries to approach her her common response is taking a step back and lashing out at them. If she doesn’t feel safe enough to calm down then she might resort to violence.  

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life?

Yes, it’s possible. There are characters in her main story that Yuki already trusts with everything. Vld!Yuki trusts the paladins with her life as well, but she’s portrayed as a bit more naive. Of course she won’t trust anyone straight off the bat, it’s a long process. 

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love?

I haven’t looked into that side of her much so I can’t tell? I feel like it depends on who the person is but she is loyal, very loyal and supportive. Yuki becomes more aware of herself and wants to better herself for their sake. She feels inclined to protect them from everything which is a bit much, so again they’d have to snap her out of that. She values communication and feels safer and more reassured when a problem is resolved using it. Yuki likes physical affection; hand holding, hugs, cuddles, small pecks and forehead kisses. Simple things that recharge her. 

TAGGED BY: @pyroteched

TAGGING: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO! 

[calliecuster]

BASICS

Full Name: calamus joseph custer

Meaning of Name: his name means “cane,” “grass,” or “reed.”

Nickname: callie

Birth Date: june 10th

Astrological Sign and Details: he’s a gemini! he believes very much in astrology and checks his horoscope every day.

Birth Place: he was born in tchulla, mississipi, in the local hospital.

Age: 21

Nationality: american

Race: mixed white

Hair Color: brunette

Hair Style: wears it long, frequently putting it in complicated styles. he’s been growing it out for years and it reaches about mid-back by now. it’s his pride and joy, and loves to play with it and pamper it. buns and braids are favorite styles.

Distinct Features of Face: he has a somewhat rectangular face, and is naturally pretty, with a greek nose, defined brow, and deep-set brown eyes. high cheekbones and clear skin. he has a very small scar on the right side of his lip.

Glasses or Contacts: he doesn’t have either, and never has, but he DEFINITELY needs them.

Eye Color: deep brown.

Skin Tone: pale peach.

Scars or Distinguishing Marks: he has track-mark scars on his wrists, and heavy scarring on his upper thighs and butt. his right ear-lobe is scarred.

Disabilities: he has undiagnosed depression, anxiety, and PTSD, as well as having substance abuse issues, but he muddles through regardless.

Build or Body Type: tall and slender, with a nice build, slim waist, and decent muscles. he has long legs and a nice silhouette; overall, he’s a very attractive person, and he’s quietly proud of this, despite the fact that he doesn’t have very much confidence in himself.

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 189

Speech Patterns: though he’s trying to wean himself off of it, callie still has a very strong and noticable southern accent.

Tag Words: ‘you know?’ ‘puh-leaseeeee’ ‘gosh’ or ‘gee’ or ‘goodness.’ never takes the lord’s name in vain.

Gestures: he always plays with his hair, especially when he’s nervous, while he’s talking.

Weakness: is very easily guilted. loves ice cream. you can tempt him with drugs and sex just like that.

FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: his mother is a woman named gracie custer. she dropped out of high school and married her boyfriend when she got pregnant at the age of sixteen; an uncommon occurrence where she lived. though she is a sweet woman, and hard-working, she has a hard time finding her own path and has a habit of allowing others to decide things for her, such as her husband. she was raised with the rigid rules of the Bible Belt, and lives by them rigorously in many ways that are unhealthy. despite this, she is kind and giving, but easily flustered and annoyed as well. she loves babies, but struggles to handle all her children in the small space which they live. she works at a local corner store. she loved her son, Calamus, but largely sat idly by whenever he was beaten, and often told him that he was ‘asking for it’ and wouldn’t have to take whippings if he just ‘followed the rules.’

Father: calamus’s father is a man named hank custer, who works in construction. he is not very in touch with his emotions, and is an incredibly hard-working and proud man. he values appearance, obedience under god, and doing things correctly, and he and his oldest son never got along. what was initially just conflict and discipline eventually grew to serious abuse as calamus got older and more bold, and he would frequently beat callie growing up, until calamus ran away from home at the age of sixteen .

Family Finances: living under the poverty line; lived in a trailor home, paycheck-to-paycheck, with food stamps.

Birth Order: callie was the oldest of seven. he has a younger brother named jethro, three youngest sisters named elseth, november, and serafina, a little brother named clyde, and an infant sister named patience.

Other Close Family: n/a

Best Friend: callie spent most of his childhood as the ‘ringleader’ or a small group of neighborhood boys, who would often spend all their time together getting into mischief and entertaining themselves in the trailer park. this group included calamus custer, who was undeniably the leader of the group. he was often the one who called the shots, and the rest of the boys often spent their time jumping to callie’s defense and helping him out. he spend most of his time with them, in order to avoid going home. it also included elijah jeans, who calamus often felt he related to the most in the group. like callie, he liked a lot of things that boys weren’t supposed to, like nice clothes and theatre. callie and elijah would spend long hours watching videos or movies on the internet in secret, and gushing about it and the outfits and the music later. if elijah was gay, however, he didn’t figure it out until calamus left. maximilian o’connor could climb higher, run faster, and jump farther than anyone else in their group. it was a common activity to try to out-do max, but no one could ever quite managed it. he was seemingly good at every sport he touched, and everyone always fought over got to have him on his team whenever they played anything. callie usually settled this by hoarding him to himself. finn tosh was probably the quietest of their little group, and wasn’t quite as rowdy as everyone else, but callie kind of liked that. it made him easy to talk to, and it made it more special when he was coaxed into participating. he had a beautiful singing voice, and callie always tried to convince him to let him film it. he only agreed once, right before callie left home. thaddeus mcmarren was the youngest out of everyone, and he often followed callie around like he was star-struck. he lived with his aunt and uncle after his mother died of overdose, and with a huge gaggle of cousins, and didn’t really get very much attention at home. since callie related to this, he and the rest of the boys always made sure plenty of eyes were on thaddeus, especially when he needed it. the two would walk and talk together to avoid going home often. if anyone was callie’s ‘second-in-command,’ it was asher tingsley. he had a lot of the same charm and enthusiasm that calamus did, and the same fire. he got angry easy and was always ready to put it all on the line and fight for his friend’s sakes, and was the one who spent the most hours in detention with callie, even though they all had their fair share. every couple of nights, callie would sleep over at the house of miles mobius. he had the nicest house and the nicest parents, and there was a beat-up futon in his room where calamus could sleep. callie remembers staying up late with milo and just talking a lot about things. about school. about what they were gonna do when they got older. about the things they loved and the things that scared them. seth ways and callie together always equaled trouble, because they always came up with the most reckless and awful and horrible ideas together. in chemistry, they would start fires. when they were wandering around the local dump, they would also start fires. one time, in seth’s house, they started a fire. there were a lot of fires, actually. and lucas hughs… he was the first boy callie really liked. i mean, he knew he was gay for a long time, but lucas, he really LIKED. and he was his first kiss, too. but lucas didn’t feel the same way, so callie moved on. regardless, they were incredibly close friends, and they usually spent hours talking together, sitting together, and trying to avoid going home. they liked a lot of the same things, and had a lot of the same thoughts. they always both said that one day, they would move to new york together and share an apartment. it didn’t turn out that way. callie sometimes thinks he might miss lucas the most. but he misses everyone a lot. he hasn’t seen or heard from any of them since he left mississipi at sixteen. his life has been a bit too much of a mess since then for him to play down any roots or make any real friends, and he’s only just beginning to spread out his wings in lockwood.

Other Friends: besides his little group, for the most part, callie didn’t get along with his peers growing up. he was more commonly bullied and ostracized, and he had a lot of trouble socializing once he made it to new york, too, due to his circumstances.

Enemies: n/a?

Pets: never

Home Life During Childhood: callie was born into a family living beneath the poverty line in the deep south, being raised on a lot of values that are common in the bible belt. obedience to god, valuing one’s family, working hard, respecting your elders, etc. etc. growing up, calamus didn’t have the same interests as a lot of other boys his age. he loved the idea of having long, beautiful hair, wearing his mother’s make-up and clothes, dancing, and singing. he liked things like trucks and exploring the woods and making things blow up and racing, too. but no one ever worried about that. the more prominent these interests became, and the more his bold personality began to show, the more his family tried to squash it down. his father in particular, a man who highly valued hard work, obedience, and image, often clashed with his eldest son. he frequently punished him for being too feminine, for shaming their family, for not working hard enough, and anything else that happened to piss him off, and calamus was no stranger to neither his belt nor the back of his hand growing up. calamus was naturally very charismatic and charming, and surprisingly, didn’t have a difficult time making friends in his neighbourhood. while he faced a fair deal of bullying and discrimination at school over the years, he built up a small “following” of boys who lived in the same trailer park as him, and were more open-minded than their parents. he spent most of his time wandering the streets with them and sleep over at their houses. they were close-knit. they would protect each other even at self-sacrifice, laugh and play together, and go along with calamus’ whims. doing complicated hair tutorials from Youtube with the blonde locks that calamus had been passionately growing out since he was small, recreating music videos, exploring the local dump and racing through the town. this was what protected him and kept him going for a very long time, and what made him stay, despite everything else that happened. his family, the church, the troubles at school. this only ended in him getting in more trouble at home, where there always seemed to be a new excuse to beat him.

What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: for a while growing up, calamus shared a room with his younger brother, jethro. the two of them lived in a small bedroom of the trailer that they lived, with just enough room for two twin beds. it was a bit small and it was a pain to share with jethro, because the two of them never got along, but at least it was a room with space to put his things and a door and a bed. once his youngest brother, clyde, was born, and got old enough that his parents didn’t want him in their room anymore, clyde got calamus’s bed, and he was basically banished to the living room. he slept on the couch and kept his things in rubbermaid tubs in the living room. 

Any Sports or Clubs: not really! he spent most of his time with his little group of friends, but didn’t participate in much else.

Favorite Toy or Game: calamus’s favorite things growing up were his hot wheel cars, and his mother’s makeup, when he could get into it. when he did the latter, however, he was always in a TON of trouble afterwards.

Schooling: calamus went to the local public school, like most kids in the area did. callie had a lot of troubles; most kids at school didn’t care for him, and a lot of his teachers didn’t hide their distaste, either. he got in trouble a lot at school. he missed class frequently, either because he was staying home to help watch his younger siblings, or because he didn’t want to put up with the teasing and just skipped. as a result, he was usually failing most of his classes. he decided very early on that he was probably just stupid, and it wasn’t worth trying in class.

Favorite Subject: science

Popular or Loner: a little bit of both! he was definitely popular with certain kids, but not with a lot of others.

Important Experiences or Events: when Calamus was freshly sixteen, he and his father had a severe altercation after they found out that callie had secretly pierced their right ear some time ago, typically hidden by his long hair. by the end of the night, calamus had a split lip, a limp, and a buzzcut. leaving their friends behind was the hardest thing calamus ever had to do, but it was at this point that they decided that they couldn’t stand living in the same tiny town with nothing on the horizon and no adults caring about what went on at home. he hitch-hiked his way out of town, new york bound, and didn’t look back. once he was in new york, he bounced around from shelters to couches to the streets for several years, before he was finally able to get a job and save up enough to get a tiny apartment. he has only recently saved up enough to enroll at lockwood.

Health Problems: insomnia, substance abuse, frequently gets migraines due to his lack of vision correction.

PERSONAL

Bad Habits: when he gets nervous he’ll chew on the ends of his hair, flinch, make himself small, back himself up against the wall or try to find the nearest escape route. he hoards things like there’s no tomorrow, in case he needs them. over-drinks and still dabbles with drug use, though he’s trying to break the habit.

Good Habits: tries to eat good food, is a penny-pincher, never late to anything, is always cleaning his apartment and himself, almost obsessively.

Best Characteristic: his optimism.

Worst Characteristic: his drama and lack of confidence.

Worst Memory: the time he was beaten for piercing his ear before he ran away from home. everything after that was awful, too, but the realization that his father didn’t care for his mental or emotional wellbeing at all, and him and the rest of his family and all their neighbors would always value appearances more than him, stung worst of all.

Best Memory: callie’s fondest memory is a tie; between hanging out with his roving gang of friends back in mississpi, after a very long fall afternoon. they were all piled atop a junk car like seals on a rock in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by this endless field and watching the sunset while they talked about nothing in particular. the other contender is the first time he got his baby sister, patience, to fall asleep in his arms. typically, she would only cry or fuss or stay up if anyone but her mother held her. but when he laid down and put her on his chest and she drifted off, that was one of the warmest feelings Calamus ever had.

Proud of: his physical appearance and ability to keep going when things are hard.

Embarrassed by: his scars, his substance use, details of his past.

Driving Style: he never learned how to drive!

Temperament: typically fairly even, more likely to shy from conflict than push it.

Attitude: positive and tenacious.

Fears: pain and going backwards in progress.

Phobias: he has a very real fear of physical pain and being trapped, of making others angry with him or disappointing those around him, and of embarrassing himself or his friends.

Secrets: heroin addiction and his previous homelessness. he doesn’t like to discuss it; it embarrasses him.

Regrets: he has a LOT of regrets. sometimes, he regrets running away. sometimes, he regrets waiting so long. sometimes, he regrets his lack of education. he regrets leaving his friends. he regrets his choices. he regrets getting involved in drug and sex, he regrets trusting the people he did, he regrets the things he did to get arrested…

Feels Vulnerable When: he shares details about himself, when he’s in a tradition classroom, or when he’s nude.

Pet Peeves: people who are too loud when it’s not necessary, people who take charge even when they don’t know what they’re doing, baby boomer customers.

Motivation: he never wants to be a homeless drug addict again. he just wants to live a comfortable life.

Short Term Goals and Hopes: to pass all his classes, settle down at school, and manage to keep up on payments.

Long Term Goals and Hopes: to settle down with someone and have a nice house and a small family, and just have… nice, basic things that people dream about.

Sexuality: very gay

Exercise Routine: he likes to go running around the neighborhood a lot.

Day or Night Person: he’s more of a day person, but often ends up staying up for a lot of the night.

Introvert or Extrovert: extrovert.

Optimist or Pessimist: optimist.

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: a weird combination of flashy, catchy pop and heavy death metal.

Books: the harry potter books.

Foods: he likes almost all food, and will basically never turn anything down, but southern comfort food is a favorite.

Drinks: anything fruity and sweet and boozey.

Animals: he loves dogs and horses.

Color: blue

Clothing: he likes old band-tee-shirts, and anything swishy and flowly.

Jewelry: he doesn’t really wear any, but he has a few pretty, simple stud earrings that he’s collected over the years that are important to him.

Games: he loves any sort of card game.

Websites: twitter

TV Shows: he likes riverdale a lot.

Movies: harry potter!

Greatest Want: money

Greatest Need: sobriety

LIFESTYLE

Favorite Possession: his apartment itself. having previous been homeless for several years, just having a place to call his own is incredibly precious to him.

Most Cherished Possession: a small cats-eye marble that lucas gave him before he left home.

Town or City Name: new york

Married Before: no

Significant Other Before: no

Children: no

Relationship with Family: estranged; ran away when he was sixteen, and hasn’t had any contact with them since.

Salary: 24k/year

Other Income: has three different jobs; barista, waiter, and dog walker.

Dream Career: hair stylist or makeup artist

Dream Life: comfy, cozy, shared.

Love Life: mostly just hook ups.

Sexual Turn Ons: loving sex, biting, getting his hair pulled, being praised.

Sexual Turn Offs: being hit in any way, shape, or form, or being bossed around too much.

Hobbies: singing, dancing, doing complicated hair styles, exploring, sciencey things, watching comedy shows, sewing, embroidery, and running.

Guilty Pleasure: he really likes to dress up and try on skirts and dresses, but he tends to keep this on the down-low. also ice cream.

Talents or Skills: he’s really good with hair and make-up, and he’s a really good dancer, too. very good with babies.

Intelligence Level: he’s decently smart, but doesn’t believe that he is, and has had very little education in his lifetime.

[noshipslost]

gabe liked someone once and had a crisis about it 

Gabriel for the life of him can't relate. And it makes him feel some kind of way, like he's missing out or something. But he's utterly befuddled at the idea of a crush. Like, he understands the concept. Because grade school children are loud and awful gossips, he always heard he was several girls' dream boy. Girls flocked to him, always willing to chat him up. And he loved to talk to people. He didn't understood what made him so special, and eventually, so did they, just admiring the idea of him. Some still gushed over his good looks. He asked his parents about it and they were so excited that he's growing up to be such a stud, leaving lines of girls in heartbreak. And guys, too, apparently, when he looked a bit more feminine and androgynous. They asked him if he had several girlfriends or liked anyone back. He has tons of friends that are girls! He likes a lot of people! But not like that. He doesn't understand and he's missing out on something and he doesn't know what.

He takes to the internet to figure it out. Asking around about crushes is just an invitation for people to instigate and accuse him of having one. Never in his life?? And people think it sounds fake and weird and that he's just lying because he's super embarrassed about it when really he's just embarrassed he can't describe it any better. Besides, search engines can't judge you. Pulling up urban dictionary leads him to 'burning desire', 'a painful experience that involves being obsessed with someone', 'a kick ass soda' (he chuckles. Not what he was looking for, but he agrees. He wishes the underground had that brand of Soda), and a pretty weird definition that said that people do silly things like stalking them to find out their schedule and look at their social media.

Love is weird. That kind, anyways. He loves his friends, but there's no burning desire or an obsessive need to follow them around to stalk them. That's really creepy. Love makes people do scary things. He thinks love is great and all, seeing two (sometimes more) people happy with being together with each other, but it's just not something he relates to. He looks at his friends and his heart aches with how much he loves them. Just not like that. Sometimes he emulates a little bit of each of them because he thinks they are all so cool, but he doesn't like them like that.

He thinks Dolores is the scary big sister he never had, who teaches him Spanish he never learned, and they clean together while listening to Bachata music. Kayla always has nice things to say but can tell it to you firm, but gently. Often times he goes to her for advice and gets it, as well as some pastry she's making that day, because she feels he's on the bony side. Teddy's kind of a jerk, but he knows lots of interesting stuff and Gabe can wear him down enough for him to share his knowledge. And he's the only one that understands Guy Talk. Aisha is quiet, but she listens to him. She doesn't offer much conversation but sometimes she braids his hair while he just blabbers on and on, telling her about his day and asking for hers and sometimes getting more than one word responses from her. And Andy--

Andy's the second big sister he never had. She's huge, compared to him. He can relate to Dolores for the shared culture but Andy and him are nearly the same, both talkative and expressive kids who like sports and doing dumb teenager things. He has his signature beanie from her because she traded it away for his bandanna.

He thinks Andy is pretty great and it's a tie between her and Dolores of who he hangs out with the most. She always enables most of his dumb ideas and they get into all sorts of shenanigans. They have a lot of fun together, but sometimes he just spills his guts out and she stops acting like a goof and gets really solemn and serious before calling him her lil' man, before pulling him into a tight hug and telling her that she believes in him. He hates that nickname, he doesn't know why he gets so flustered when she calls him that, but it's only her so he supposes it's okay.

He likes all his friends, Andy the most. He scared him when he acknowledged a crush creeping up on the orange soul. He seen the way those girls in his past made googly eyes at him. He sometimes hear Teddy stumble words in front of Mister Doggo. He's seen the way Nala, a green soul he thinks, act so nervously around Aisha. They turn into fools, blushful, nervous, knee-knocking fools. And he still had no burning desire for her because that sounds like a lot, and no need to stalk her or anything absolutely crazy like that. They are already friends and soulmates, they do tons of things together. He couldn't like Andy, not like that. That'd be awful to Andy. Or maybe Gabe was just overthinking it. Whatever that stream of conscious thought was was over as soon as it started. He didn't want to have an 'awful, heart-breaking experience' so he just stopped. So maybe it wasn't even really a crush to begin with. Sometimes he finds himself thinking about it, and his stomach turns to knots and his eyebrows knit in confusion. Feelings are confusing those whole five minutes he had them.

What else is confusing is the other things he heard what people want to do with and to their crushes that wasn't the creepy-scary stalker things. Like holding hands and kissing. He'll hold a hand, he doesn't care. But kissing is gross? Well, no, he gives cheek kisses all the time, it's a habit formed by culture. Mouth kisses on the other hand are disgusting. There's all those germs floating around in people's mouths and they want to put their mouth on someone else's willingly? Not to mention sometimes people will liplock in public without shame, with gross mouth sounds and tongues slipping about and teeth clinking together and it's an awful train wreck that makes him want to turn away but he can't and heat rushes to his face because he can't stop staring. They just want to do all sorts of mushy stuff and it honestly sounds gross the way people describe it. He still likes to hear about it because part of him is a Gabby Gums who likes to gossip. And sometimes it's cute if it's not super gross.

There was a time in Camp where people came to his cabin to play spin the bottle, that awful, awful game that was always at shitty middle school parties. He didn't want to play it, because it seemed dumb. No one really needs an excuse to kiss, and the chance part of it was nearly anxiety-inducing. Still, he was goaded to play by Wander, who was supervising, and a bunch of others calling him a chicken, which he most clearly wasn't. He sat in that circle and pouted, fingers crossed tightly as he watched the bottle spin and spin and spin. Sydney right next to him probably died from embarrassment because she got landed on so many times. Maybe his anxiety manifested into pure bad luck for the purple soul. If he's honest, and he mostly is on account of his virtue, he wouldn't want to trade places. But then it was his turn to spin and if it was possible he doubled his concentration on where it landed. It landed on a Frisk with bird wings. He heard about this kid before. Teddy told him about them from an incident he had with a robot dog. Seemed nice enough, and gosh, he just wanted to get it over with. The bird kid seemed a bit flustered from dumb kid teasing before and just turned a bit redder from Gabe's chaste peck on the cheek. He scoots back over to his spot by Sydney and glares defiantly at Wander. He's no chicken.

He ended up having the last laugh since Wander got sacrificed to the chance of the bottle twice afterward by two people, who practically melted from kisses.

And then after camp, he got a bunch of questions about it from people he never heard of, but still answered their inquiries. He felt kind of giddy to do it, and upset they embarrassed their new bird friend. He hoped it would pass, the feeling and the questions.

But it didn't, it just grew and grew the more he hung around the determined soul. They growing more and more friendly with each other. One time at they nearly stayed up all night roaring tone deaf lyrics into a karaoke machine. Nearly, until Wander casts some wicked spell, Gabe's certain, or an incantation to lull sugar-high twelve year olds to sleep. There was also chance encounters were they happened to be at the same place and time, and plenty of planned events, like the Halloween Ball and the Winter Retreat.

These strange feelings only surged once and he's super definitely not counting that time. He's determined to hide that five minute infatuation on Andy deep in his subconscious mind. But they manifested again, with fuzzy thoughts and sweaty palms and lingering smiles that made his jaw ache every time he talked with the bird child. Still unused to it all and unsure, he doesn't think the cold and logical internet can help. Nor can he decipher the hyperbole some people there have to offer as realistic or not. He finds himself talking to Kayla, spilling his guts out about this kid, pulling his beanie down over this face as he gushes and wishes he could just be normal again. She listens and pats him on the shoulder and tells him everything will be alright and that it's normal. It's not, not really, but it's just something Gabe's going to have to suck up, she says.  

It's not hard, but it wasn't easy to act cool around Frisk. He's very good at pretending, though. He wasn't sure when he or Frisk kept sneaking out into each other's cabins in the new Winter Camp, but it was welcomed and enjoyable. Sometimes they both participated in each others events or walked about the familiar but frigid Soul Island, holding hands. To keep warm, clearly, duh. Butterflies skittered about his stomach every time he missed his forty winks to replay conversations they had as they slept together. He snoozed and always woke up with a face full of feathers.

Dolores started asking about them, grinning that grin she grins when she knows Things. He's hardly on undernet (branded Skynet on the island. Weird.), but he had to dig through months of backlog to read that Frisk told her about it. He curses his fair skin and honesty, quickly turning red at her knowing stare. He's less embarrassed she knows and more embarrassed of how she'd react. She squishes his face and tells him he's growing up so fast. He could just die.

He avoids the vaquera sometime after that. He had enough of that with Kayla cooing about it and Andy and Teddy poking fun at it. But he's easily distracted by all sorts of new sights on the island and things to do, so he doesn't fret on it a lot.

On New Year's Eve, the counselors let all the kids free roam to whatever cabin they wanted to ring in the new year. He hasn't strayed from blue cabin, but Frisk is there with him. The cabin inhabitants decide to do another game of spin the bottle. His face is hot again at old memories and he asks Frisk if they want to go talk a walk, hoping that the cold will quell the fire in his cheeks. Frisk agrees and they slip out the cabin undetected.

Gabe finds himself with Frisk gazing at the frozen lake. He's feeling extra mushy and tells Frisk about all the nice things he experienced this year. It's a long list and he can't stop himself from rambling on. At this point he's just babbling, nervous, glancing between the lake, Frisk, and the projected countdown display in the sky to chime in the new year. Fireworks are already going off prematurely.

There's just a lot to be grateful for, and he admits he's glad Frisk is listening. But it was at that moment, they fluffed up and gave him a peck on the cheek, hoping to calm him down and quiet him. It certainly shuts him up. He's no blue boy anymore, he's a red boy. A very red boy, but with a bashful smile, he thinks Frisk is trying to go for some new year's tradition. Kissing is still super gross, but if he's quick about it it'll be less so. He turns Frisk's face to his own and closes the gap with a quick kiss on the lips and pulls back, redder than before. Even the bold and brash Frisk is hiding under their feathers. He's so pleased with himself despite the fact it feels like his heart's trying to climb out of his throat. It was clumsy and quick and barely a kiss but it was a kiss and it was his first kiss and he has no time to mentally unpack that then and there because the Temgon had to go and ruin their moment by scaring the bajeebees out of him.

But what are they? They haven't made any efforts to have a conversation on that yet, just enjoying each others company and wearing bashful smiles when people call them cute. Gabe doesn't seem to like labels, as they don't have concrete definitions and change depending on the person. He knows he's not straight. But he's not gay, either. He can't be, Frisk isn't a boy. Or a girl. Not that he'd care or mind if that was the case. Datemate, he thinks he heard somewhere was a nice word if he had to use one to adhere to Frisk. Soulmate sounds simultaneously cheesy and serious. His soulmates are Los Guerreros, the other five kids that fell down the mountain with him, his family. His soulmates. Frisk? Frisk is the first kid he felt an attraction to for more than five minutes. His datemate. Are they dating? Again, it sounds so much more grown up and serious than what he feels it is, but that implies he doesn't take it seriously. He really likes Frisk, in the friendly way and more than friendly way, and enjoys spending time with them on their not a date dates.

An upcoming not a date date they might have together is just taking a stroll through his verse's Waterfall, to maybe take in the sights and eat nice cream maybe. The idea was tossed around during one of those anime nights Teddy dragged him to. Somehow the purple soul got teasing him when he's over there making plans for Netflix and nerding with another purple soul'd girl. It's not a date, he says. What is Gabe, stupid?

He can't wait for his not a date- no, it's totally a date, screw it.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] What Comes Next

Miyako’s hair is so beautiful. Hikari could’ve spent forever helping her brush and comb it out, let alone considering new hairstyles. As pretty as the wave of violet looked going down Miyako’s back, Hikari thought it could look just as good, if not better, shaped a little differently.

Besides, playing with hair was fun, and after everything they’d gone through, they all deserved a little fun.

“What do you think of this?” Hikari asked, twining the hair into a neat little ponytail. It was a very simple style, but better to start simple and be able to undo it if something went wrong than start complicated and not be able to undo it.

Miyako wrinkled her nose at her reflection. “I wear it like that when I’m going to bed. You’re not trying to get me into bed, are you?”

Hikari wished she had some sort of instant blush nullification ability, because no sooner had the words passed Miyako’s lips than she turned a brilliant shade of scarlet and tried to stutter something. If someone asked, she wouldn’t have known exactly what she tried to say in the first pace.

Miyako’s reflected eyes caught her own and she blinked before turning around and looking at Hikari, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have said that! I didn’t mean it like… like that! Really, I didn’t!” Her own cheeks blushed red and she ducked her head, muttering words Hikari couldn’t understand and didn’t care to, not while she was still trying to sort out her own short-circuited brain.

It shouldn’t have been anything more than a quick laugh between them. But the words hung in the air even as Hikari waved off the apology and mumbled something in her own turn about how she’d known that, really, and everyone said things they didn’t mean sometimes.

Only Hikari wasn’t at all certain of whether or not she didn’t mean it. Nor was she sure of what she would’ve done if Miyako did mean it.

Little by little over the last couple of years since they’d defeated BelialVamdemon, she’d noticed just… little things changing about the way that she and Miyako spent time around one another. For one thing they spent a lot more of it, now that they weren’t having to put up with some evil Digimon trying to destroy the world every other week, and they found out facts about each other that Hikari wouldn’t have imagined when they’d first met at school.

Not just things they had in common, but points they didn’t, points they could talk about and learn from. The world of darkness and learning to jogress evolve with one another set the stage there, but ever since they’d begun to move beyond that, to not just learn what they could do, but doing what they could do.

“What about this?” Miyako picked up a golden-brown ribbon from her table and offered it up to Hikari. “Chizuru thought I’d like some of these.” She toyed with the ending of it before letting Hikari take it. “I’m not sure if it really works, though.”

Hikari took the ribbon and examined it; it would fit magnificently against Hawkmon’s feathers, she knew that right away. But as she looked from the ribbon to Miyako, she couldn’t be quite sure if it would really match her hair.

“You know, I’m a little curious,” Hikari said as she undid the ponytail and started to comb out Miyako’s hair one more time. She vaguely considered asking which shampoo Miyako used, since her hair hung soft as silk against Hikari’s hands. But something else came out instead. “I don’t think anyone else in your family has hair like this, do they?”

Violet hair wasn’t the strangest shade she’d seen by far. Ken had blue hair, as did Jou, and she knew for a fact neither of them dyed it. But now she wondered about Miyako.

And once again in the mirror, she saw a flush creeping up Miyako’s neck and the older Chosen ducked her head.

“No...” Miyako’s lips parted as if she weren’t entirely sure she wanted to say anything next. Then she forged ahead. “Because I don’t either. It’s brown.”

Hikari tilted her head, looking from the reflection down to the hair in her hands, and something of her confusion must have expressed itself, because Miyako reached into a drawer on her table and pulled out a bottle.

“Purple is my favorite color, and I always wanted purple hair when I was little,” Miyako said, not quite meeting Hikari’s eyes as she spoke. “Then one day mom brought this home for me. She thought it would just be something I’d get over if I had purple hair for a few months.” She reached up to poke at her hair. “But I didn’t.”

One of the first thoughts in Hikari’s mind was that Miyako should be so glad that Odaiba’s school system didn’t completely insist on non-dyed hair for their students, like some she knew of. It was preferred that if someone did dye their hair that it not be distracting somehow – she vividly recalled someone with acid-green hair who had been asked to try something else – but Miyako’s tasteful violet definitely wasn’t distracting.

At least not to people who weren’t Hikari. Every time she saw it in the school hallways, her heart skipped a few beats, and the year spent with Miyako in high school and Hikari still in junior high had stretched out forever.

“It’s really beautiful, no matter what,” Hikari said at last, checking out the bottle. She’d seen this shade before for sale, but somehow, the connection to Miyako just hadn’t hit her. “I didn’t have any idea.”

Miyako shrugged, reaching to take the bottle back. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve just done it for so long I don’t know if I’d recognize myself without this hair anyway.”

Hikari rested one hand on Miyako’s shoulder, enjoying the warm sense of contact. “I’d recognize you, no matter what.” Their hearts and minds had touched during their Jogress together. How could they not recognize one another? Perhaps it hadn’t been as dramatic as Ken and Daisuke, whose hearts beat in tandem, but it was a bond all the same, one Hikari wouldn’t have ever wanted to go without.

Miyako peeked back up at her and offered a brief smile. “You know, I kind of wonder what you’d look like with hair like this. And maybe grow it out a little?”

Hikari laughed at that. “You mean look more like you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Miyako fiddled with her fingers before she raised her head once more. “I think you look great just the way that you are.”

Hikari found it difficult to breath, and tried to push things back the way they’d been, picking up the ribbon that had somehow slipped from her fingers in all of this, and taking up Miyako’s hair with her other hand. “What do you say we try a braid this time? You’ve got enough hair for it.”

Miyako’s response was just a bit distant. Not angry or upset or even hurt, but somehow… Hikari didn’t know what to think about it. Instead she just started to weave a braid together, fighting her way through her own thoughts.

“You look great, too, just the way you are,” she said at last. She wanted to find something that would fill the awkward silence that hung between them and grasped onto the first thing that came to mind. Under other circumstances she might not have. “Once we’re done here, do you want to go see a movie or something? There’s a really good one at the theater.”

She hoped Miyako didn’t ask her what the name of it was, because she didn’t have the faintest idea. She just remembered that Taichi mentioned seeing it with Yamato the previous weekend, and if it was good enough for them, then it was probably good enough for her and Miyako.

“Sure. Um, maybe dinner somewhere afterwards? Somewhere nice, not a fast food place.” Miyako essayed a smile and Hikari returned it full force. “My treat.”

Sounds like a date, Hikari thought, and this time decided not to say it. If it wasn’t one, then she could enjoy everything with her best friend. If it was one, then she didn’t want to make Miyako nervous about it . As much as she liked Miyako – which was far more than she’d thought possible once upon a time – Miyako did have a habit of getting a little overenthusiastic at times, and Hikari sort of thought it would be better for everyone if that didn’t happen this time.

It could happen another time. When it wasn’t a potential first date and they weren’t treading on the edges of something that could change their lives in such a good way.

She kept on working on Miyako’s hair, wrapping it off finally with the ribbon being tied at the bottom. “There, what do you think of that?”

Miyako moved her head from side to side, then faster, a wild grin lighting her face up. “I love it! It’s wonderful!” She was on her feet in a second and wrapped her arms around Hikari. “Thanks!”

Hikari shivered at the warm sense of Miyako all around her, her heart pounding faster than ever before. “T-thanks.” She wanted to say so much more but right now, everything that would’ve created words shut down, letting her bask in the glory that was this lovely young woman.

She managed to step away, more because she wanted to think again than anything else, and glanced at the time. “Uh, if we’re going to the movies, we’d better get ready. I think we’ve got maybe an hour.”

Hikari didn’t recognize the word out of Miyako’s mouth, but she understood the intent anyway. She agreed with it as well. The sooner they got ready, the sooner they could go, and perhaps have time not just for dinner and a movie, but a long walk afterward. She could think of several places that she’d like to see by moonlight with Miyako.

“I’ll run back home and change,” she said, looking down at her own rather boring outfit. She wanted to wear something much better for this, no matter what kind of an outing it was. A thousand little thoughts raced around in the back of her head, mostly concerning what to do with her own hair and if she should bother to wear makeup at all and if she did what kind of makeup and what they should do with Hawkmon and Tailmon and if this really was a date what she would do when Taichi found out about it and Miyako had two sisters and a brother and they were going to say things and Hikari had to stop herself before she lost her breath and passed out from the rush of thoughts.

Miyako didn’t seem to have noticed anything unusual, so Hikari decided that she hadn’t noticed That was good; she didn’t think that she could explain any of that anyway.

“See you soon!” Hikari didn’t wait for more than a quick wave from Miyako before heading out the door. She recalled one particular outfit that might look good with anything Miyako wore. She’d also have to remind Miyako that she loved spicy food; that could help them decide which restaurant they stopped by after the movie.

If a thousand thoughts rushed in her mind before she left, then ten thousand marched in formation as she hurried home. The idea of whether or not this was an actual date spun around there first and foremost. By the time she was out of the shower, she’d decided one thing: she did want it to be one. She liked Miyako. She liked her more than anyone she could remember liking in her entire life, in a far different way than she’d also liked anyone else.

It might not be love – Hikari wasn’t even sure if she liked girls or boys or both girls and boys and wasn’t sure either if it made a difference at this point – but she did want to spend as much time with Miyako as she could, and not just doing things friends did. She wanted to feel Miyako’s arms around her, and to have her own around Miyako. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted Miyako to kiss her back.

If that was what it was to love someone, then she thought she might well love her. It was definitely worth a chance. She didn’t think either one of them would lose anything if it wasn’t love.

And if it was, then they’d both have something that they wanted. She hoped. Oh, she hoped so hard.

And tonight would help them find out one way or the other.

The End

Notes: And they lived happily ever after.