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             ORIGINAL CHARACTERS MASTERLIST POST.    reblog this post if you have an original character and want to be added to the original character masterlist located here.    please follow the following format in your tags when reblogging and i will add you to the list.

blog url / single muse or multi muse.   (  ex.  enoqian / single muse.  ) 

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mary peels her face from the fabric of his pants in just enough time to angle her head up towards him as he asks and her expression quivers. her eyes water, bottom lip jutting out as she starts to cry, her tiny fingers curling against her grip of him.

"nn—..." he was gone so long, she thought he might never return. mary doesn't like aunt carol—she doesn't know her enough to, still hasn't adjusted to any of this yet.

"don't go again," she cries.

hugs his leg!!!

Has been hugged by the Child.

"Hello, sweetheart. Were you good for Aunt Carol?"

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the last round of thunder was so loud, so jarring, that mary doesn't even register that cole's thudded his way back upstairs and brought himself through the door of her room. her cries are seperated by intervals of hiccups that leave her more dissolved into helplessness than the last.

she picks her head up to sniff the collection of snot trying to pool into the blanket bunched up into her face, notices the light on in the room and tries to go quiet. but even as she tries to clamp her lips together, the involuntary effect of her cries turns it all into a high pitched hum that leaves her with each exhale through her nose.

the bed is too low for him to fit under there with her, but the fear is still there: he will find her and he will be angry. she hugs her blanket tighter, staring at his boots with red, puffy eyes, and hopes with all her might that he doesn't find her, because the indiscriminate mercilessness of nature rattling the walls and shaking her to her tiny core is somehow a little less frightening than an adult that will punish her for daring to be afraid.

Rain pummels a free-fall percussion on the rooftops, drops fat enough they splinter the ground on landing. Cole's heels pound a rushed pace through the halls, picture-framed walls blurring as he peels through doors and circles between rooms. Every call is met with rattling shingles, wood walls slapped with the drumming roll of nails, but there is no answer from his daughter and every beat of silence wrenches a cold spear through his stomach.

He strangles a jacket off the coat rack between his fingers, starting for the front door for mud-crusted boots when lightning flashes, beaming through the windows in flood light whites; blasts shadows into cut-out blacks in a brief strike of clarity. Mary's voice clatters out beneath the shake and roar of thunder, piercing despite all the din that surrounds it, and Cole tears after the new direction like fire.

He pushes the door back open into her room, hinges whining a vocal track as the hallway light wedges a block into the dark. His fingers fumble along wall paper, tipping a switch to On. Breathless, he calls: "Mary?"

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marys bday was 3 days ago,,, falls to knees

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Frosty the Snowman (1969)

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mary really doesn't like when she has to come to the museum. it's too big, too open; there aren't many places for her to tuck herself into to hide. but she thinks if she's quiet enough, she can make it through the day mostly unnoticed. the big kids at the other table are easily occupied with each other that they won't even think to pick on her.

but then the museum man strolls in sighing, and mary freezes. he'd tasked her with putting the pens and pencils in seperate organizer bins, which seemed pretty easy at first. but then she found a few mechanical pencils in the pile without really knowing what a mechanical pencil was... so she placed them in the bins with the pens.

@lightsblooming / karter kane

He treks quietly through the museum's halls, his eyes laser focused on his clipboard as he tries to make his proper rounds of the day. A sigh escapes him as he draws in a quiet breath and makes his way around the bend.

HE HEARS some of the interns in the distance, his eyes moving upward before he lets out a quiet sigh.

"Alright alright, back to what you were supposed to be doing."

He's A LITTLE more lax today. With the holiday season he figures it's best to try and give them all a break, but he still runs a tight ship one way or another.

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[id: a blue userbox with a white border and white text that reads “this user sleeps with stuffed toys" . on the left is an image of a teddy bear. /end id]

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the sound of mary's lollipop plops into her bucket right after his addition to her candy stash, is followed by the sound of it all rustling as she adjusts to grip the handle with both hands squeezed together side by side.

she turns towards the street, glancing at the direction they'd come from, if only because it's about time to start missing mommy again; it's been a long day, with a lot less nap time from all the anticipation of her first trick-or-treating.

her eyes land on a shiny door thats wrapped in orange tinfoil, little pumpkin lights decorating the porch railings.

"we go here?"

Mary's handful is modest, but the pride glows in her face, her cheeks pushed full and her posture an exclamation point. The girl smiles at happoween and Cole tips his hat, murmurs to her something about grabbing a handful for the road, and she concedes. His palm scoops a fatter haul, aluminum foil glittering between fingers, and he drops tootsies, smarties, and jolly ranchers into Mary's pink bin. A quicker procession, but Mary's confidence buds like a sapling first breaking loam, bright green and bashful.

"All right, hon," It's tempting to lift her up again, but Angela's voice presses into his ear: She needs to develop her legs — "Where to next? You think you can try your hand at it?"

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Pretty everything ⋆｡˚

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can yall believe that i saw a small child dressed as a butterfly princess today-

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once again mary finds herself face-to-face with a scenario that trick-or-treat practice leaves her unprepared for. her back presses against cole's legs, eyes blinking in surprise at the kid on the other side of the door. she didn't think that this was a thing that happened, she assumed it wasn't allowed; kids taking the grown-up's jobs on a day like this. but the fairy costume is pretty, and even if mary is otherwise too caught off guard to speak, there is awe in her expression right before she glances down at the basket of treats.

this, too, leaves her unprepared, as she never expected that she would get to take the candy herself. mary responds by tilting her head all the way back until she can look up at her dad, as if to get permission to do such a thing. at his nod, she brings her head back down and leans in, tiny hand grabbing a single yellow lollipop with the gusto of someone that's just completed their greatest feat.

"happoween!"

Her nervous demeanor has him squeezing her in his arms, smacks him with all the courtesy of a lock-stuffed sock against putting her down, but he does it anyway after her hand plaps unevenly against the door bell.

A girl teeters open the door, some pre-teen age with a simple costume befitting the simple decorations, and her face mirrors Mary's shy apprehension, until, that is, she sees Mary, and a light winks awake in her expression. She murmurs, "Happy Halloween", lips all pruned to a soft smile and a soft voice, crouching down to present a basketful of treats for Mary to take from.

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the grip on her candy bucket tightens with each long stride towards the door. she startles at the sudden exposure under the porch light, curling into him as he brings her eye to eye with the doorbell.

the quick open-palmed smack only makes half a ring, but someone inside begins to move in response, and when the door opens, mary is nervous again; her voice wavers.

"trick treats ..."

Her chubby little finger's the compass needle for his eyes and he follows its direction over darkened lawns and the chicken squabble of children to the quaint little home dressed in demure whites and fairy sparkle.

"Sure."

He, of course, neglects to put her back down, whisking her away over sidewalk concrete and night gloomy asphalt. Long strides on long legs, the click-clack thomp of boots. Porch light splashes his feet as he nears them both towards the pale-illuminated doorbell.

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up in the safety of his arms, mary nestles her bucket into the new nest of dress that's bunched itself up to her chest. her eyes look across the neighborhood at kids, small and large, making their way to decorated doors. she tenses at the loudness of a gaggle of costumed teenagers running unsupervised over sectioned-off lawns, turns her head in a quieter direction towards a modestly lit white house tucked away from the chaos. it has windchimes and fairy ornaments hanging on the awning.

she points, a little unconfidently, in that direction; mostly because she's not used to making choices.

"there?"

Her candy jostles around like beans singing gravity in a rainstick, tap-dance percussion on tin. Light a match and toss it into the firepit of his voice: Warmth spills as he folds his forefinger and thumb over her tiny fingers, "Yeah, we'll do it again."

His arm scoops her up from beneath, and he cradles her against his chest as he shambles to a stand, waving the elderly woman a thank you and goodbye, before turning out into the pumpkin-lit streets. He huffs a smile as he murmurs, "All right, Lil Miss, which house, next?"

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tilting her chin back down, mary gazes into the bucket barely full of reward and doesn't quite know what to do with herself. she's never had so much candy at once, or even ever. she's not even sure how much is in there—she doesn't really know how to count yet.

the candy jostles at the bottom of the bucket as she gives it a tested shake. "okay," she says, and for a moment after, she just stands like that, processing some unspoken thought.

then her eyes are back up at him, waiting. "we do again?"

the confections clink and clatter against her pink bucket walls, timid little shuffling echoing the hand that mouses around. there's a warmth that feels like home that blooms a smile on his face as she presents her prize: a mix-and-match collection of tootsies, smarties, and other hard-candied delights that lose their shiny wrapper sheen beneath his hat-haloed shadow. it's a good, modest start. he grins; the one end of his lips cap-sizes and leaves the rest of it canted to a lop-side.

Endearment strings the beats of his snicker together. cole taps a metal finger twice against the rim of her pail. It rings out, not too unpleasant. "Yeah, hon'," His hand takes up her entire shoulder when he presses into it with a fragile squeeze. She's so small. One of these days she'll grow and she won't be needing you around so much anymore, but that day isn't today. "All for you."