ofopendoors-blog

[ofopendoors-blog]

Two feet tall. Uh-- I don't know how old I am. I have a SPARKLING personality though, and I've been told I'm very positive. I like long walks on the beach [in the summer], getting ice cream [in the summer], and sunbathing [in summer]. In terms of dating, I'm pretty easygoing. I don't think I've ever BEEN on a date. . . . . . . what's a date?

Describe yourself on anon and I’ll say if I’d date you.

“Olaf!” Anna sat back on her heels, laughing, before leveling a look in her friend’s direction.

“This is all very nice of you, Olaf. Thank you.” And it  WAS  very sweet of her friend to make her want to feel better. Gently, Anna took hold of Olaf’s sticks and held them gently between her own two hands, warmed again by his endless compassion. “Dates are for people in   l o v e . Two people who really,  REALLY love each other go out together and do things and it’s–it’s very nice. And very nice of you to offer. Thank you.”

[ofopendoors-blog]

Describe yourself on anon and I'll say if I'd date you.

Age, gender, height, eye and hair color, then tell me what your favorite something (hobby, class, music, etc) and what kind of date you want to take me on.

Ready? GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gogogogo!

[ofopendoors-blog]

;; I’m mobile rn but starter call!

[ofopendoors-blog]

@surrexitpetalis​   wants to build a snowman !! ❄️

“Ah-hum, yeah. Sorry about that. Again. Causality of war,” she added with a conspiratorially smile and a cocked head, as if to let him in on some inside joke involving food fights and their various strategies.

--No sooner were the words out of her mouth than, with a dull horror, did Anna realize just  WHO  her insensitive remark had been made to: a knight-guy. A captain...general...type...person. Someone who had   s e e n   war and probably wouldn’t appreciate a little quip like that.

“I mean! It’s not a  REAL  causality. Or a real war. Just some food and you caught in the cross-fire--er--friendly--no, not that one either--uhm--I’m so sorry. Can we. Can I. Yes. Good.” Anna straightened herself up again and offered the man her hand. “Hi, my name’s Anna. Let me get that cleaned up for you. Sweets and seafood are no problem for the staff here! They’re very used to it.” Which, in retrospect, probably  ALSO  didn’t sound so good. Yikes.

[ofopendoors-blog]

@bellslain​   is(n’t) worth melting for !!   ☃️

“Be...be less of a JERKFACE. Yeah. I   w e n t   there.”

[ofopendoors-blog]

As 2017 is dying

Anonymously send me something you’ve always wanted to tell me

[ofopendoors-blog]

impcssibledreamer:

[ofopendoors-blog]

impcssibledreamer liked your post:ernesto: hola, senorita~ anna: gesundheit.

he keeps plying me with whisky and bourbon send help

[ofopendoors-blog]

ernesto: hola, senorita~ anna: gesundheit.

[ofopendoors-blog]

mywhataguy:

“Of course he is– he’s Gaston.” This poor girl was so unenlightened. She’d learn about the town hero soon enough. “Gaston singlehandedly saved the entirety of Villeneuve when we were attacked by raiders years ago.” He wouldn’t mention how many years– because that would be too telling. It had happened nearly two decades previous, when he and Gaston were just on the cusp of manhood.

“Yes– that’s me. I didn’t sit with the painter nearly as long as Gaston did. it doesn’t matter anyway– the mural is about him.” Jacques ever so calmly explained. “If you’ve any questions about him, I’d be glad to answer them. I’m Gaston’s right hand– I’ve been at his side since we were children.”

“Iiii’m...sure your friend is...great.” Except that Anna didn’t SOUND sure. Quite the opposite: she sounded like she was lying. Which she was. But only to spare the poor man's feelings! The clear disdain for her had only   j u s t   left his voice and there was something almost  FAMILIAR  about it. Something lovable and safe-feeling, as if he had been a friend of her sister’s or maybe...maybe a lost uncle? He was almost old enough to be...maybe....

“But why didn’t you sit longer with the painter?” Anna asked instead, pausing to look back over at the mural. “Even the dog looks more like a dog than the you does...well, you! Surely  THE DOG  couldn’t have sat with the painter for long. Besides, they did such a good job with your friend--surely  YOU  couldn’t have been too difficult to paint after slaving over HIM?”

[ofopendoors-blog]

chooseboth:

     THE NEWS OF A SISTER LIFTS THE CORNERS OF RED’S SMILE, turns any lingering sadness into something gleaming and genuine. “You have a sister?” she breathes, her smile – if possible – growing even softer. “It’s only been me and my Granny for as long as I can remember, and she… always makes sure to keep me close.” Her grin flickers for a moment, then, discontent threatening to sour stretched lips once more. Red shakes off the sensation seconds later, her burgeoning curiosity quick to overpower any resentment she may harbor. “But I’ve always wondered what having a sister would be like. Or a brother!” 

       FOR AS MUCH AS SHE KNOWS THAT HER GRANDMOTHER LOVES HER, and loves her dearly in return, living alone under such a harsh thumb is endlessly stifling. What Red truly longs for is a companion to groan and gripe over Granny’s stubborn ways with. A partner in crime who would gladly tumble out the window with her and run barefoot through the woods; someone whose answer isn’t always a stern frown and resounding ‘Wear your hood, Red!’ Peter comes close to filling that role, in a sense, but… He can’t, really. Not when Granny so vehemently disapproves of him for daring to so much as as breathe anywhere near her granddaughter – and certainly not when the love Red has for him, wholehearted and true as it may be, is far from sisterly.

        BUT EVEN THOUGHTS OF PETER ARE PUSHED ASIDE as the girl continues. “You’ve fought a wolf before?” Red exclaims, eyes going wide. Not only has this girl traveled from far off lands, but she’s fought the one thing that holds back Red’s life, too. How much more is there to her than meets the eye? “But even if that’s true, I… don’t think this is any ordinary wolf. It only comes out one week of the month – WOLFSTIME, everyone here calls it – and when it does…” she trails off, eyes flickering to the floor. “Usually it just takes livestock, but Granny’s convinced that it’ll do something far worse soon. She keeps me cooped up inside all week long, every time it comes.” Red’s expression finally does sour, then, brows furrowing as her gaze rises once more. “And she always makes me wear this hood, too; says that the red repels wolves.” Calloused fingers play at the edge of velvet fabric, torn between tugging it on tighter or tearing the offending article straight off her shoulders.

“Oh, I can understand that. Elsa--when we were kids, Elsa and I got into an accident. Kind of. It was my fault but...--actually, it’s a long story. But for years and years and years, right up until we lost our parents, Elsa...shut herself out. Locked herself up. And my parents were always busy and usually the gua--, ah, the rest of the people around us were, too, and there weren’t any other kids, so I kinda grew up alone. But close. I think I understand.” Anna beamed for lack of something better to do with herself, for the sake of her fast-growing kinship with Red, for having someone who understands (at least in part) what it means to grow up alone and isolated and closed off from others. Her smile, her warmth, glow bright as a fire, even in the frigid cold.

Nonchalantly, Anna adjusts the blanket around her shoulders, nestling further down into it and wishing she was somewhere where Red could sit easily down beside her. “Oh sure. Only once, but then it was a whole pack. I think just one would be much easier.” But Red’s tale grows darker, so much darker, and Anna can’t help the furrow in her brow, the loss of her bright smile. People living in fear is the one thing, the one among few, that makes Anna’s chest feel constricted even without a corset on. Without thinking much about it at all she reaches out as well, taking the red velvet gently between her fingers, accidentally brushing them against Red’s (much warmer) fingers as she did so. She rubs the velvet in contemplation.

“...I think your grandmother’s right to keep you inside,” she says slowly, thoughtfully, as she stares into the plush red. “Wolves are dangerous, even scared ones. Especially scared ones. And if red repels them then...then I say good!” Anna pulls back with another smile, her hand falling away from the cloak. “I wear blue; I really wouldn’t know. But...but I think...I think you’re both right. I shouldn’t go out again. Not tonight. But I couldn’t possibly stay for all of this...  W O L F S T I M E .  I couldn’t possibly put you out like that!” But she could give Red a much more lasting gift.

“But before I go, I’m going to stop your wolf. Or at least teach  y o u  how to do it. That way you’ll be safe for sure!”

[ofopendoors-blog]

orchardsxsong:

Carmilla can’t help but choke on a breathe she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I-What?” Her head turns back around to the princess beside her. Where was the hate? The scorn? Even those who had helped her enroll into the program had held mild fear for what it might mean, having the Evil Queen’s daughter in their precious school. 

Fingers twist fabric as her nerves hit, waiting for the inevitable, wondering if this girl next to her is capable of being cruel enough to play with another’s emotions. “Maybe, maybe it’s by Kingdom? The princess of Aurodon already has hers up so that would make sense. Unless it’s random of course.” Carmilla shrugs, discretely moving more space between the two of them. 

“Oh! I suppose it   m u s t   be random, then. Auradon comes after....” Anna’s voice falters as she turns back to look at Carmilla again, the radiance in her face crumpling all at once on realizing the distance reinstated between them. “...Arendelle.”

There’s a brief moment of consideration between what is right, what is normal, what is wrong, what is strange--but in all her months here,  THIS  is the closest she’s come to having a real friend, and it only takes a second of silence for Anna to make up her mind.

“I’m sorry, have I offended you?” She turns to face the other girl head on, searching her eyes with the kind of quiet desperation only the truly alone and lonely seem to possess. “Because I didn’t mean to. Really, I didn’t. I’m bad at this. I grew up alone--well, not alone, I had my sister but she just kept herself locked away so I may as well have grown up alone--and I know I’m not very good with  PEOPLE, but I really thought we were getting somewhere and now we’re not.” Anna could feel her mouth running but any intentions she might have had to stop it fade away as she gets lost in the forest of her thoughts. “And I’ve been lonely, so lonely, ever since I left my sister because she’s--she’s my sister, you know, my best friend--and I’m here with her or Kristoff or Olaf and I don’t fit in very well and it seems to me that every time I almost make a friend,  THIS  happens. So before you run away, could you   a t   l e a s t   tell me what I’m doing wrong? Especially since no one else will?”

[ofopendoors-blog]

;;i’m at my boyfriend’s. <3

but he was bothering me to do replies, so.

HEY @bellslain. I’M DOING REPLIES NOW. FUCK YOU!

[ofopendoors-blog]

Tell me what you like about my portrayal

[ofopendoors-blog]

Send me anons as my muse’s parent!

(or parental figure, if they don’t have parents)

[ofopendoors-blog]

orchardsxsong:

“Oh that’s not true!” Carmilla quickly shakes her head. Like all the new girls, she hadn’t been here for long and while she gets along with most of those here, she wasn’t particularly fond of them. They were to…fabricated, to interested in being perfect and frivolous. Anna, well, she couldn’t make up her mind straight away of course but she seemed different, quirky, happy. “Your second in line to one of the most beautiful kingdom even if they don’t see you, they’ll see that.” Visitors always did. 

Eyes turning away, Carmilla gives a tense smile. She loves her Mother, with all of her heart but she knew that not everybody did. She was old enough now, to understand why. “Uhm, no. Not to far Carmilla of the Enchanted Forest so only a couple of letters off.”

Anna takes a stunned, quiet moment to grieve for things she isn’t sure other princesses grieve for. Second in line to a beautiful kingdom--that was all Hans saw, too. A means to an end. An end to his means. And what had become of that? Elsa called a monster and nearly exiled, herself frozen, Hans nearly taking the crown.... All that Anna wanted to be was happy, and the way to that happiness would not come from a throne and a scepter--but Elsa  NEEDED  her to play this part, to learn to be a princess and go on foreign visits with her, and for the other half to her soul, Anna would do anything.

Even sacrifice her own happiness at the altar of her sister’s needs.

So she hums a tuneless note instead and applies the paintbrush back to her canvas, outlining a large snowflake at the palace’s center rather than any of the features there. Let the painting be a horribly melted blue mountain: maybe it was a good test to find true friends and honest people.

“Carmilla of...the Enchanted Forest,” she repeated instead, slow and measured. She pulled back to look at her snowflake with an uneven smile, brushing hovering over her pallet again.

“That’s nice! I wonder if they’re going by name or by kingdom.”