#But she always sports her sensible haircut

[rosielav]

Hello everyone. Sorry I haven't been posting much art, it's been hectic at work.

Please enioy this teeny tiny Penny admiring a very large Chu (Chu is still trying to figure out humanoid hands....give her some time)

[misseviehyde]

HEARTLESS

"Are you sure you are talking about MY Mom?" gasped Kathryn as she stared at the two older women in front of her in horror. "You're claiming that Rebecca Gray was the biggest bully at this school? Really?"

Kathryn was standing in Lauderdale High's cavernous main hall. Tables and chairs had been set out and banners proclaiming 'Class of 2000' had been strewn everywhere. Kathryn was dressed in a smart white blouse and black skirt. Her plain brown hair was pulled up in a bun over her head.

As a current student at the school and the student president, she was both fulfilling her duty, but also earning a bit of extra money helping to serve drinks and snacks to the guests at this reunion. When Principal Saunders had asked her, she'd been keen to help. She'd also been curious to meet her Mom's classmates and find out the gossip.

Her Mom NEVER spoke about her school days and to Kathryn's disapointment she had even refused to come to this reunion, claiming that she had been bullied at school and didn't want to attend. But now, Kathryn was learning that is was HER Mom that had been the bully.

Mary and Angelina shook their heads slightly in disapproval. "No, we're saying that bitch Beckie Gray was the actual devil AND the biggest bully this school ever saw. She was a stuck up bitch who used her pretty looks and position as Head Cheerleader to torment everyone. Your Mom made our lives absolute Hell."

"B...but that can't be right," boggled Kathryn. "My Mom is a really nice person. She's the sweetest, most caring person I've ever met."

The two women scoffed. "Well your Mom must be a very different person to who she was when we were at school. You seem nice enough dear, but I'm afraid your Mom ruined our lives. No offense, but we'd rather talk to some of our old friends, not the daughter of our worst bully. Goodbye."

The two women drifted off to talk to someone else, leaving Kathryn alone. Putting down the tray of glasses she was carrying she walked over to the door and exited into the corridor. She just needed a minute to get her head together.

Walking over to the water fountain, head reeling, she splashed her face. The cool water brought her back to her senses. She was being crazy, just because two silly old women accused her Mom of something didn't mean anything. They were probably just confused.

Kathryn pictured her Mom. Rebecca was a fairly average looking woman, handsome perhaps, but not pretty. She was shy and bookish, she worked at a pharmacy and was interested in classical music. Her Mom had zero interest in sports and the thought of her as a cheerleader was actually laughable. Kathryn couldn't reconcile the thought of the gentle kind woman she knew with the image being painted by her Mom's classmates. It didn't make sense.

"Hey are you okay?"

Kathryn looked up to see her best friend Pippa looking concerned. She was here helping tonight too. Behind her thick glasses and sensible haircut, Pippa had kind brown eyes and a keen intellect. She was always looking out for her friends and had noticed Kathryn leaving the room.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little weirded out. Let's get this gig over with, I wanna go home and talk to my Mom about something."

Pippa gave her a reassuring hug and the two girls returned to the Hall.

***

"Excuse me, did I hear right that you're Beckie Gray's daughter?"

Kathryn was tidying up some empty glasses, the reunion nearly over, when the man approached her. She'd seen him a few times that night looking oddly at her. He looked to be her Mom's age and had a slightly shy, embarrased look about him.

"Errrr, yeah," she muttered feeling slightly concerned. She glanced around and saw Pippa was nearby which was a little reassuring but still... where was this going? What did this weirdo want?

"Listen, I knew your Mom at school. In fact I guess you could say, I was her stalker. It's embarrasing to admit it now but I was totally obssesed with her. She drove me nuts and she seemed to enjoy tormenting and teasing me. She was a real bitch you know."

Kathryn coloured, "My Mom is NOT a bitch. I wish everyone would stop saying that!"

"Ohhh errr, of course, I'm sorry. Look - I just wanted to talk to you quickly and to give you something of hers. You see, just before we all graduated I stole something from your Mom. She always used to wear this really sexy looking heart necklace. There was just something so hot about it. The way it nestled in her big ti... errr anyway.

One night at a party she was really drunk and your Mom passed out on the sofa. I hate to admit it, but before her friends took her home to sleep it off, I stole the necklace. I heard she was really fucking mad about it at first. Strange thing was after a couple of days, she almost seemed like a new person. I heard she really calmed down and got on with her life after that.

Look, I've kept it all these years, but now I just want rid of the damn thing. Please will you give it back to her?"

The man quickly shoved a small black jewel case into her hands and before Kathryn could ask any further questions he hurried away.

***

"What was THAT all about?" asked Pippa curiously as the two girls finished storing the boxes away and began switching off the lights. "Who was that guy?"

"I don't know, it's weird," mused Kathryn examining the little jewel case in her hand. "All night people have been telling me at school my Mom was some sort of horrible bitch. They keep telling me she was a cheerleader, had big boobs, used to get off on being cruel to people... but it doesn't sound anything like the woman I know. I just thought it was some mistake, but then this guy gave me some necklace she always used to wear, and now I'm wondering if it's somehow connected?"

"How could it be?" asked Pippa.

"I don't know, it really doesn't make any sense." Hesitantly Kathryn flipped open the jewel case and lifted out the necklace inside. It was very fine and beautiful. A stylish silver heart glittering with jewels on a fine gold chain... it looked really pretty.

"Wow, that's soooo pretty," gasped Pippa. The other girls lips parted, her hands almost reaching unconsciously towards the necklace, her breathing heavy and her eyes shining. "Can I try it on?"

Kathryn felt a sudden stab of annoyance and irritation... no almost HATRED for her friend. She saw a greedy little troll reaching out to take what wasn't hers, a pathetic little bitch who dared to presume she could touch Kathryn's property. She snatched the necklace back and grasped it to her bosom.

"NO!" snarled Kathyrn, her eyes full of sudden malice. Pippa recoiled in horror at her friends tone and physical posture. It looked like Kathryn was going to attack her.

Then the moment passed and Kathryn blinked in surpise. "Woah, I'm sorry Pippa. I don't know what came over me there. That was weird."

"It's okay, it's been a long night," sulked Pippa, still staring at Kathryn's hand.

Pippa's eyes were still drawn to the necklace. Desire still burned in them, but it was muted now.

Put the necklace on.

Kathryn felt rather than heard the voice. She looked down and she felt a sudden thrill as the same desire Pippa had just had ignite in her own heart.

Yesssss. Wear the necklace. Become the new bearer.

Kathryn groaned as a delicious thrill pulsed through her body. She suddenly wanted to gloat. The necklace was HERS and she WAS going to try it on.

That's right. Mommy was bad, but you'll be even badder. It's been so long since I had a wearer. I can't wait to make you evil. You're going to make such an evil fucking bitch.

Kathryn's breathing was heavy, her nipples were hard, her skin was tingling. A slutty smirk twitched on her lips as she began to lift the necklace up over her head. Her pussy was wet with anticipation.

Pippa's eyes were locked onto the necklace. Kathryn wanted to laugh, it felt so good to be the one and lord it over the other girl.The one? What did that mean? Where were these thoughts coming from?

Mmmmh, all that mattered was the necklace.

Yesssss, you... are... mine....

Kathryn's nails began to tingle and extend, her hair began to turn silkier... her breasts ached deliciously. Just one more inch and...

"Girls, are you still tidying up? What's taking so long?"

The spell was suddenly broken by the voice of Principal Saunders. Kathryn gasped, suddenly feeling weirdly self conscious holding the heart necklace over her head. Blushing she quickly pushed the necklace back into the black jewel case and she slid it into her school satchel.

"Sorry Principal Saunders, we're all done here."

Pippa blushed too. "Woah, that was weird Kathryn. I felt really weird when you had that necklace out. I don't like this, something is wrong."

"I agree. Don't worry I'll get to the bottom of it Pippa. Trust me."

***

"Mom, when you were at school, did you used to own a heart necklace or something?"

In all the years she had known her Mom, Kathryn had never seen her Mom act like the way she did when she mentioned the necklace. It was like her Mom was a different person.

Rebecca's breathing suddenly became heavier, her eyes more intense. She turned quickly to her daughter an eager but terrified expression on her face.

"Why? Did someone find it? Where is it? If you know where it is you'd tell me right?"

"Mom, of course I would. No I don't know where it is," she lied. "What's going on, why are you acting weird?"

Rebecca began to cry.

"I was worried this would happen if you went to that stupid reunion. Listen baby, you have to be very careful. When I was younger I made a terrible mistake. I fell under the control of a very evil object. A beautiful silver heart. When I wore it, it gave me everything I thought I wanted. Beauty, power, popularity... but it made me heartless and cruel."

Rebecca took Kathryn's hands. Her grip was intense, almost crushing. She looked deep into her daughters eyes and Kathryn could see a mixture of longing and fear in her Mom's eyes.

"You have to understand, if I saw that necklace again, I don't know if I could control myself. To wear it again, to be hot and bitchy. To be a tight little evil whore who got everything she wanted. Even now I fantasize about it sometimes. Somehow I lost the necklace at school. It was stolen just before I graduated. At first I was consumed by rage, I tore the town up looking for it... but as the evil power faded, I became me again. I realised what it had done to me, who it had made me. I moved on with my life and hoped never to see it again."

Kathryn's heart was thudding. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Once someone wears the necklace, they become transformed. Then it's too late. They have the power to dominate others, make them do whatever they want. If someone wears that accursed thing, you'll never be able to get it off them unless they are asleep or unconscious. They will become totally evil, heartless and all powerful. I got lucky, somehow the necklace was taken from me and whoever removed it must have been immune to its transformative effects... a male perhaps? Not that men can resist the wearer when she has it on, they become total slaves. There was this one boy who was totally addicted to me, I made him do terrible things to please me... oh God I was such an evil bitch..."

Rebecca began to cry, great wracking sobs. Kathryn hugged her Mom.

"It's okay, no one has found the necklace, it must be gone. Someone mentioned it to me is all and now I understand why everyone said you were a bully. I'm glad you're free of it Mom, I'm glad."

"Promise me if you ever do find it, you'll throw it into a river or bury it deep underground. It's too dangerous to keep around."

"I promise Mom. I swear it."

***

Kathryn patted the side of her satchel, feeling the shape of the jewel case where she had left it yesterday. She couldn't stop thinking about the necklace.

She and her Mom had talked long into the night about the evil necklace and her terrible past. Kathryn had been horrified to hear about the things her Mom had done... but to her shame also excited.

As her Mom described her life as an evil slutty bullying cheerleader, Kathryn had found it hard not to imagine herself in her Mom's place.

"I used to have tits. Huge big bouncing tits. My hair was blonde and my body tanned and super attractive. I had long sexy nails and hips for miles. I must have fucked every hot boy in school, ruined every loving relationship. I bullied my friends and forced everyone to worship me. The worst bit was it made me cum so hard to be bad. I was totally addicted to being evil, my body responded to being a bully by rewarding me with pleasure. I was becoming more and more evil, the necklace wasn't far off corrupting me entirely."

As her Mom had spoken, Kathryn had imagined those huge bolt on tits on her own chest. She imagined laughing like a horny bitch as she pumped a huge black cock in each manicured hand, cum blasting out to coat her tits as she moaned and giggled.

She imagined bouncing her tight pussy on a throbbing cock whilst the girl whose man she was fucking cried in the corner. She imagined squeezing her perfect body into tight outfits, making all the men stare. She imagined being the Alpha girl, surrounded by her flunkies in the cheer squad. She imagined dragging Sarah O'Connel, one of her friends, into the girls toilet and ordering her girls to flush her head in the loo.

She imagined how hard she would squirt and how good her pussy would feel as she put on the necklace. She needed it so badly.

Put me on... now you know what I can do... don't you want it even more?

Kathryn's breathing was heavy, her hand almost inside her satchel. "Nooooo, I have to resist," she hissed. It would be so easy to take out the jewel case and put on the heart necklace. So easy to feel her small tits swell up and her body transform. So easy to laugh and gloat as she became an evil whore and embraced the corruption that was her birthright. She imagined long nails emerging from her fingers, her lips swelling up and becoming bitchy, her face that of a Goddess. She imagined how good it would feel to be evil and spoiled. She imagined two massive breasts bouncing on her chest, creamy and white, a massive cock between them as she jerked off a boy and made him her slave.

Yesssss, you can't resist much longer. Soon you won't be Kathryn anymore. You will be Kat Gray, the eviliest bitch this school has ever known.

Kathryn forced the intrusive thoughts out of her head with difficulty. "No. Tonight after school you're getting buried in the woods. You aren't going to corrupt anyone else. I'm doing this for my Mom... I have to be strong."

Forcing her hand away from her satchel she walked into school.

***

"Kathryn, are you okay? You seem weird," asked Pippa concernedly as the two girls got ready for gym. They were about to practice basketball and Kathryn had hardly spoken for the last twenty minutes.

"I'm okay Pippa, I'm just tired."

They walked down the corridor towards the gym. "Oh no, not now," suddenly gasped Pippa.

"What's the matter?" asked Kathryn in concern.

"My period, I can't believe it. I must have got my dates mixed up. I haven't got any pads with me either."

Kathryn hugged Pippa. "Don't worry, there are some in my satchel. Go and grab one, I'll cover for you."

"Oh thanks babe," said Pippa gratefully. "I won't be long." Kathryn waited in the corridor whilst her friend went back into the changing rooms.

Kathryn shook her head ruefully. It wasn't like Pippa to make a mistake like that. Perhaps she had been distracted by the evil neckace last night as well and it was affecting her too.

Wait...

The necklace... her satchel!

She turned and dashed, her heart hammering in fear as she burst into the changing rooms to see Pippa lowering the necklace around her head.

"MMMMMmmhh, oh MY FUCKING GOD YESSSSSS!"

Pippa moaned in pleasure, her body arching as the necklace slid comfortably around her neck. Her bones cracked and popped as her tiny body expanded and her pale skin tanned and smoothed. Evil power flooded into her, turning the sweet little dork into the ultimate bitch.

"Yessss, fucking give it to MEEEE," she gloated, her dorky hair lengthening and turning blonde as she tore off her glasses and crushed them beneath her feet. "Yessss FUCKING DO IT!"

"No! Pippa, take off the necklace," screamed Kathryn, but Pippa just laughed as her roots turned blonde and her she shot up to tower over her former friend.

"Never. This is MINE now. Mmmmmmh, I feel so fucking EVIL. Hahaha you dumb bitch, this feels SO fucking GOOOD! I can't believe you left the necklace in your bag, I just wanted to look at it, but then I held it and I knew what it could do. I WANT IT!"

Pippa pushed out her chest and laughed as her small non-existent tits began to swell. Her clothing creaked and tore as two huge boobs, nearly as big as the basketballs behind her swelled enticingly out of her body. "Mmmmmh, check out THESE babies you fucking loser," she laughed, grabbing her tits and feeling the satisfying weight of them. "Perfect for fucking big strong cocks."

Pippa's hair now extended down to her ass, which was now rounded and firm. Her hips had cracked out and her legs were long and sexy. She looked like a supermodel and as her clothing transformed to suit her new body - it was clear she was into wearing designer clothes now.

Pippa flexed long white nails, enjoying the feeling of the claws on her fingers. She ran her hands over her perfect body, lingering on her crotch where her tight new pussy was throbbing with lust.

"Mmmmh, this could have been you loser. All you had to do was wear the necklace and you could have been a Goddess. Instead I get to be the bitch and I LOVE it."

Pippa's once kind eyes were now mean and cruel, her perfect lips in a permanent bitchy smile. The heart necklace bounced above her big tits mockingly.

She strode forward. She towered over Kathryn now and it was clear she was twice as strong. "Kneel loser."

Kathryn felt her knees give way. She couldn't resist this Goddess. She knew instinctively that if Pippa ordered her to throw herself from the top of the gym apparatus, she would now. She shivered in fear hoping that wasn't what Pippa had planned.

"Tell me everything you know about this necklace. Tell me everything about your Mom."

Kathryn obeyed. She couldn't resist.

Pippa's lips twitched into a wicked smile. "Your Mom sounded hot when she was a bitch, I wonder if we can't bring back the good old days after all... but first we need to make a few... adjustments."

Kathryn whimpered as her former friend advanced on her.

***

Rebecca gasped as the door to her house opened and the most beautiful girl she had ever seen walked in like she owned the place. Behind her, crawled her daughter Kathryn on all fours.

The blonde girl had attached a dog collar to Kathryn's neck and was now walking her with a dog lead. Her daughters hair had been closely cropped short and she had been crying. A pair of fake dog ears had besn rammed onto her head. Rebecca felt a surge of rage at the sight.

Then she saw the heart necklace round the girls neck and her breath stopped short.

"Yes. You know what this is don't you? Hello Rebecca. It's me Pippa. I see you recognise my beautiful necklace, but I have changed since we last met."

"Noooooo," groaned Rebecca backing away as the blonde girl advanced menacingly. "Pippa you have to take it off."

"Hahah. Never. Mmmmh, that's right loser. The power is mine now and your stupid daughter is my little pet. She's been telling me all about what a bitch you used to be and it really turned me on. I've decided to bring Beckie back. You can't have the necklace, but with a bit of programming I'm sure I can bring your evil side back and then you can help me make Kathryn's life a misery."

Rebecca gasped, she couldn't believe how evil Pippa had become. She trembled in fear.

"Don't try to hide it 'Beckie'. I can see your nipples getting hard at the thought. You loved being an evil bitch and with my help you can be again. A little plastic surgery, you could even have big tits again. Now repeat after me, I am an evil bitch and I love being mean."

"Nnnnnooooo," gasped Rebecca, her nipples suddenly alarmingly hard and her body throbbing with pleasure.

"Yessssss, you want it," hissed Pippa moving closer, her intoxicating perfume and irrestible corrupting presence now focused on Rebecca. "You are a bitch. You're a fucking bitch and you want to be evil again. Say it."

Rebecca moaned, memories of the evil slut she had once been rising to the surface. She had loved being a cruel, teenage slut and having it all. Losing the necklace had been the worst thing to ever happen to her. She DID want it. She had been fighting it all these years, but now she knew she coudn't resist.

"Yessss, I am a bitch. An evil bitch."

"No Mom! Don't," cried Kathryn causing Pippa to laugh.

"Keep barking little doggy, it's too late. Beckie will soon be back."

Kathryn watched in horror as her Mom's eyes rolled up into her head. Her lips moved, repeating the mantra Pippa bad given her.

"I am an evil bitch, I am Beckie."

Her Mom seemed to be cumming.

"Ugghhh fuckkkk yessss. I am an evil bitch, I am Beckie. I am an evil bitch..."

Pippa smiled. "Yesssss that's it. Let Beckie come back, let her take control. You are a bitch just like me."

"Fuckkkkk yessssss I'm a mmmmmmh bitch."

Kathryn cried as she watched her Mom shudder and orgasm in pleasure. It was too late now.

Pippa's face was gloating and cruel, she was aroused by the corruption. She loved to see it. Leaning over, she whispered something in Beckie's ear.

Beckie's eyes rolled back down and she looked at Kathryn with cold disdain. "Mmmh, you're so right Pippa. My daughter does need training. I will deal with it."

Pippa handed the lead over to Beckie and patted Kathryn on the head.

"I'll see you at school loser. I'm going to have sooooo much fun in my new body and with my new life. I am so getting fucked tonight. I'll leave you with your Mom. I'm sure she'll have you well in hand soon enough."

Laughing she walked away with a clop of heels as Beckie looked down with a sneer at her daughter. "Time for your training Kathryn. You've been a bad girl but now you will serve Pippa and I."

Kathryn wanted to cry, but she knew it would do no good. Both her bullies were now completely... heartless.

THE END

[dwellordream]

“In February 1924, Illustreret Fagblad for danske Damefrisorer, one of the leading trade journals for Danish women's hairdressers, reported that short haircuts for women were becoming increasingly common throughout most of Europe. Although the trend had not yet reached Denmark, it was likely to do so, the journal predicted, since "we have seen within the last couple of months the first signs of .. . shorn hair here in Copenhagen." The prediction proved correct. In July 1925, Ugens Spejl, another trade journal, reported that the new fashion was spreading "like fire in old houses." That same year, the president of the Ladies' Hairdressers Association estimated that 25 percent of Copenhagen's female population had their hair cut short.

The following year, one Copenhagen barber claimed that no less than 75 percent of women under the age of 30 had adopted the new styles, leading the editor of yet another trade journal, Danmarks Barber-og Frisortidende to conclude that "there is something almost epidemically contagious about the advancing shingling. Each and everyone who lets her locks fall for the scissors immediately draws four or five others with her." Although contemporaries may have exaggerated the numbers, contemporary street photography and surviving photo albums suggest that a significant number of young women did in fact dispose of their long hair in the second half of the 1920s. 

It is also telling that no fewer than 48 of the 59 women interviewed for this project recalled having their hair cut short before 1930. As Anne Bruun explained many years later, "That was just what you did. If you were young and wanted to be in style, that was definitely the look. Anybody who wanted to be up-to-date did that." Helene Berg agreed. "Short hair made you look chic, made you look modern," she claimed. Besides, as Louise Ege pointed out, short hair "kind of fit with the other things that were fashionable. Short dresses and all that." But despite their enthusiasm for the new hairstyles, actually acquiring one of the fashionable bobs was not always easy. While the number of beauty salons had been growing since the turn of the century, women's hairdressers generally shied away from providing their female customers with the short haircuts they desired.

For decades women's hairdressers had worked hard to create a respectable female profession by promoting themselves as specialists in hygiene and conventional feminine beauty, an accomplishment they were not willing to sacrifice by embracing the controversial new styles. Moreover, since most hairdressers were only used to working with combs, brushes, and curlers, few were actually competent to cut hair. As a result, many women had to enter male barbershops to have their hair cut, a step many took with considerable trepidation. The difficulties of finding a stylist both willing and able to cut a woman's hair was not the only obstacle to a fashionable appearance. Many fathers and husbands explicitly prohibited the new styles. Others let their disapproval be known more indirectly.

As Magda Gammelgaard Jensen recalled, "I really wanted to get my hair [cut] short, but I didn't know how to go about it. It wasn't so easy when there was a man around." According to Mr. H. M. Christensen, the president of the Danish Grooming, Toilet and Sanitary Workers' Union, many women therefore chose to "have their hair cut at a time when their husbands and fathers [were] not at home." Outside the private sphere, other forces also strove to contain "that unfortunate tendency among young ladies to shear their hair." Some workplaces openly discriminated against women who adhered to the new fashion. Several prominent department stores did not hire women who sported the new hairstyles. Others fired employees after a visit to the hairdresser. 

In 1924, the personnel director at Crome & Goldschmidt, one of the leading clothing stores in Copenhagen, flatly declared that he "would absolutely not engage or employ any young woman with bobbed hair." Other businesses had similar policies. The president of Salomon David Jr. Inc., Inger Diemer, explained that she had "banned bobbed hair." "I demand," she continued, "that the women who work with us, sign [a contract] that they will not wear short hair. In my mind, that is not proper in an old, highly esteemed firm." The director of Bispebjerg Hospital, Charlotte Munck, also banned short hair for all nurses under her supervision.

Even women in less publicly visible occupations faced ostracism if they chose to adopt the modern styles. Inger Mangart, for example, who worked as a part-time cleaning assistant in a private home in the late 1920s, recalled being dismissed the first day she arrived with short hair. The press was equally adamant in its stance against the new styles. To discourage young women from following fashion, newspapers and popular magazines delighted in sensationalist stories about domestic turmoil caused by short hair. Divorces, physical abuse, family disintegration, and even murders were described as tragic, but predictable, outcomes of women's changed appearances.

Assuming, however, that young women were more likely to follow fashion prescription than sensible guidance, journalists and other commentators figured that the most efficient way to combat the modern styles was simply to declare them unfashionable. "Bobbed hair is no longer in style," one beauty advice columnist thus warned as early as 1922, several years before the new styles hit Denmark. "We hardly have to repeat that bobbed hair has already received the death sentence abroad," another fashion expert claimed that same year. "There is no doubt that this fad, the short hair, is coming to an end," Ugebladet asserted a couple of years later, and in 1925, B.T. was pleased to report that "all countries now agree that the fashion of short hair is finally on the retreat."

Yet despite these elaborate efforts to suppress the new haircuts, women's enthusiasm did not wane. Many critics therefore felt compelled to explain the dangers of the new styles in the hope that young women would be swayed by their arguments. Some journalists and beauty advice columnists sought to discourage young women from having their hair cut through use of the kind of racist imagery that permeated early twentieth century European culture. By labeling the new styles "Hottentot hair" or "Apache cuts," they strove to impress upon young women the incompatibility of short hair with refined Western womanhood. "Surely, no young lady wants to look like a monkey," one reporter thus argued, apparently hoping that young women would recognize the similarity between women's short hair and animal fur. 

Other observers claimed that short hair simply made women look ugly and unattractive. Cutting one's hair was therefore inevitably at the risk of losing "the man's admiration and desire." Although some men admitted that a short-haired woman might serve "as a drinking buddy," those who participated in the public debate all insisted that the new styles did not mix with marriage and motherhood, implying that short-haired women could expect to live out their lives as spinsters and old maids— an argument that presumably would dissuade any young woman from such reckless behavior. While most female critics tended to focus on the aesthetic aspects of the new styles, it was quite different considerations that fueled much of the vehement male opposition. 

Like many other people in the early twentieth century, these commentators believed there was a direct correlation between external appearance and internal self. When a woman cut her hair, she was not only defying conventional standards of femininity but was also prone to develop some of those mental traits that usually characterized people with short hair—namely, men. As Ludvig Brandt-Meller, a male hairdresser who opposed the new styles, explained, "Short hair tends to emancipate the woman. It is as if it affects her psychologically." Others found that short-haired women became "like men in character and gestures," insisting that "that 99 out of 100 women with short hair have simultaneously acquired boyish or mannish manners."'

A few alarmists saw even greater dangers ahead. The very act of cutting a woman's hair, they argued, would eventually alter a woman's biological constitution and turn her into a man. Believing that the mass of hair on a human body was constant, some argued that short hair would necessarily cause women to grow beards. Others predicted the advent of female baldness. "The evidence is right there, since 60 percent of all men over forty [who presumably had cut their hair since childhood] are bald, while less than 0.1 percent of all women [who had never previously cut their hair] suffer from this weakness," another critic of the new styles explained. 

While men had tended to object to short dresses because they rendered women too attractive, their reactions to short hair were therefore quite different. According to male critics, short hair "emancipated" women and made then unwomanly, even masculine, and not attractive enough, a violation of gender norms that seemed to them much graver and ultimately more unpleasant than women being overly sexy and seductive. Even those who did not necessarily believe that short hair would actually turn women into men found this quite disturbing because, as one correspondent wrote to the editor of the newspaper B.T. in 1925, "If there is something we men cannot stand, it is precisely women void of femininity. "

Young women's seeming disregard of men's opinions about the new styles only made matters worse. Apparently, young women were no longer pursuing physical beauty and style for the purposes of male pleasure and admiration. How, then, were men to understand women's enthusiasm for short hair as anything but a sign that women cared less about male approval than about their own "emancipation"? Some even feared that the popularity of the new styles might indicate an explicit sexual and emotional detachment from men. In comparison with those who defended short dresses when they first appeared, supporters of the new hairstyles were therefore faced with a much more difficult task. 

The opposition to women's short hair was much fiercer than the opposition to short dresses had ever been, as short hair connoted emancipation, female defiance, and rebellion against men's judgment in a way that short skirts never had. During this entire controversy, the voices of women who cut their hair were rarely heard in public. Under heavy fire, most young women seemingly preferred to avoid the discursive battles that raged around them. On the few occasions that any of these women did speak up, they generally adopted a very cautious stance, seeking to diffuse the opposition by reassuring critics of their whole-hearted commitment to femininity and respectable womanhood. 

In 1925, one young woman who described herself as "old-fashioned" despite her short hair thus sought to counter criticisms of the new styles by denying that there was any link between appearance and identity. "Why in the world should a young girl not be equally feminine and good whether she has bobbed hair or long hair?," she wondered. "It does, after all, not change the nature of the young girl to have her hair cut off." More often, young women simply tried to skirt criticisms by emphasizing the very pragmatic concerns that allegedly had led them to the barbershop. "Much can be said both for and against the bobbed hair, but the fact that it is a practical way of wearing one's hair, nobody can deny," one woman argued.

Nonetheless, the relative silence on the part of the women who wore the new hairstyles did not mean that no voices were raised in their defense. Complicating the picture of vocal male opponents and a largely silent group of female supporters, the chief public advocates of short hair for women in the 1920s were in fact male barbers. Not that barbers were a particularly fashion-conscious bunch or especially committed to young women's right to determine their own appearance. These men simply saw the new styles as a means to propel their profession out of the crisis in which it had lingered for decades. 

The rise of the medical and dental professions had dealt the first blow to the former surgeon-barbers, eliminating what had been the most profitable areas of their occupation. Later, when men began to shave themselves rather than frequenting the barber twice or three times weekly, the financial base of most barbershops had been further undercut, and scattered attempts at cultivating new areas of business expertise such as facial massage and manicure had contributed only little to their economy. 

In this context, the fashionable new styles for women seemed a god-send for barbers eager to cultivate both a new clientele and new sources of income, and since women's hairdressers generally opposed the short hairstyles and most often refused to cut women's hair, barbers were left with the uncontested responsibility for providing young women with the look they desired. Of course, barbers were not oblivious to the offense women's short hair provoked or the wrath they might incur by accommodating female customers. 

It was therefore in their own best interest to counter the opposition, and toward that end they adopted the same strategy that fashion advocates had successfully used a few years earlier, namely, to attempt to disassociate short hair from any kind of subversive intentions on the part of women. Short hair, they insisted, had nothing to do with defiance of feminine conventions or even modern fashions. It was a style adopted for reasons of comfort, ease, and practicality only. "It is not the senseless mimicking of fashion follies that has led women to allow their hair to be cut off," one barber thus insisted in 1926. "Rather, it is the natural development in all social strata that has forced the women to choose a practical hairstyle."

To give credibility to this claim, barbers traced the origins of women's short hair not to feminist rebels or decadent fashions, but to that highly respectable, self-sacrificing female heroine, Florence Nightingale. "When a war begins," one writer explained, "masses of younger and older women who wish to be nurses in the army immediately sign up. The healthiest among them are selected, and the first step on the road to their new vocation is to cut their hair as short as men's, first, because the daily care takes too long time, and secondly, because a nurse cannot run around with a zoo of carnivores [sicl] in her long hair." Upon their return, the reasoning continued, admirers adopted similar hair styles. 

Although there was little historical evidence to support such an explanation—after all, Florence Nightingale's reputation had been established during the Crimean War almost three quarters of a century earlier, and few women had followed her example in the intervening years —this argument had several advantages. First, it disassociated short hair from any kind of female defiance. Second, it sought to ground the popularity of the new hairstyles in admirable, patriotic concerns. And third, it tied short hair to notions of health and hygiene. From the mid-1920s, particularly the latter, combined with arguments about the practical requirements of the labor market, formed the core in the defense of women's short hair. 

In addition, barbers also sought to address anxieties over the seeming dissipation of gender differences by calling attention to the cultural and historical versatility of hair styles. In an article entitled "Masculine Girl Hair and Feminine Boy Hair," the author set out to prove that "women have not been 'the long-haired sex' for as long as we believe." A sampling of Greek, Roman, and Persian traditions led him to conclude that "long hair appears just as frequently on men as on women when one examines history, which is why hair has nothing whatsoever to do with sexual character." 

Just as long hair did not make men less masculine, short hair would not eradicate women's femininity. In fact, some argued, it held the potential of actually heightening it by drawing attention to women's fine facial features. "The shape of the face, the beauty of the skin, as well as the soft lines of the neck" were accentuated by short hair, one barber wrote, poetically comparing a woman's face to a "painting [that] is also seen more clearly in a simple frame." In the case of modern dresses, fashion advocates had gradually managed to convince most critics of their compatibility with conventional womanhood. Short hair fared differently. 

Short, simple haircuts for women never gained acceptance in the 1920s, at least not among the men and women who publicly expressed their opinions. The controversy over women's hair only died down at the end of the decade, when a new, modified style of short hair became popular. Ironically, this new short style, which eventually appeased critics, emerged from the beauty salon run by women's hairdressers. Having been entirely unsuccessful in their attempts to coax women into preserving their long hair and eager to regain some of the professional territory lost to barbers, women's hairdressers found themselves forced to dispense with their rejection of the short fashions. 

Still unwilling, however, to embrace the bobbed look, they devised a new strategy. Arguing that short hair unfortunately had been "carried to extremes... by the less cultivated segments of the female population" and was sported by "each and every factory and shop-girl," (middle-class) women were offered a chance to distinguish themselves as "finer ladies" through "feminine and graceful styles with curls and waves" while they were waiting for their hair to grow out again. By fashioning themselves as aides to women concerned with the reestablishment of their femininity and by presenting their care for short hair as a form of damage control, hairdressers were able to legitimize their growing interest in women's new hairstyles. 

With relatively few ideological scruples they were therefore able to plunge into this profitable market during the last years of the 1920s, gradually recapturing the patronage of most women. However, that women left the barbershop and (re)turned to the beauty salon did not indicate that long hair was regaining its popularity. Fashionable hairstyles for women remained short for the rest of the decade. What did change was the way short hair actually looked. Female hairdressers, one fashion columnist noted with applause, did "everything to give the short style a more feminine air than earlier." 

Permanent waves and curls, artificial hair pieces, decorative combs, ribbons, and barrettes all contributed to this goal. This new, feminized version of short hair quickly gained popularity among women interested in variation and possibly weary of public hostility. Within just a few years the original simple, straight styles had virtually been abandoned. Customers, one hairdresser noted with pleasure in 1927, now wanted "to become more feminine, not with completely long hair, but with longer short hair, enough to be curly in the back and around the face .. . so that the repulsive boyish head becomes beautified and more feminine."

Thus, after a brief but troubling intermission where women's adoption of short hair seemed to be blurring gender differences, new curlier versions of bobbed hair marked the reestablishment of gender distinctions in fashionable self-presentation. Even though women continued to cut their hair, the clear stylistic differences between short hair for men and short hair for women soothed critics, and gradually their opposition faded. With their confidence in the stability of sexual difference restored, some of the harshest opponents were even able to admit a few years later that they actually found short hair quite charming and attractive—if not on their wives, then at least on their daughters.”

- Birgitte Soland, “The Emergence of the Modern Look.” in Becoming Modern: Young Women and the Reconstruction of Womanhood in the 1920s

[my-soul-sings]

This Is Everything I Never Wanted: Chapter 1

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Everyone! Mainly Taehee VS. Yooha (but not TaeheexYooha) because I’m here for the drama and tea  👀☕️ 

Summary: An alternative account of events in which Taehee was the one who summoned Yooha from the scroll instead of MC.

A/N: I live for Taehee and Yooha's brawling in the game. This idea popped into my head last night and I went ham on it, enjoy this crack-fic, I hope it makes you smile/laugh. :)

Now up on AO3!

***

It all started the day Biho came home with a scroll painting. Frankly, it looked weird. There was a man with long, silver hair on it, and Taehee didn’t like the weird aura coming from the scroll. Or maybe it was just the man’s face he didn’t like. Something about it pissed him off—probably that annoying, arrogant smirk on his face. 

But Taehee couldn’t object to Biho hanging it up on the wall in the living room, especially not when he looked so mesmerised by the picture of the sea in the background. The younger man had always been fascinated by the sea, so Taehee decided to leave it alone. MC also seemed to like it too, and if the house owner herself had no complaints, who was he to protest? 

On hindsight, he should have said something. Insisted on his way—something he rarely did and would probably be easily forgiven for.

At first, Taehee kept noticing the painting, unnerved by the feeling that the man’s eyes were following him, watching his every move. He swore it wasn’t his own imagination, and he felt goosebumps rise on his skin whenever he walked past it. He couldn’t ask Biho to put it in his own room though; the wall in their room already looked messy enough because of Hansol, who had a compulsive need to buy posters of his favourite musicians. 

With little options at his disposal, Taehee tried to brush it off. Ignore it, pretend it wasn’t there. 

It took a few days, but soon enough he practically forgot that the painting even existed, for the most part. And life went on, as per normal.

That is, until Cleaning Day.

It was his favourite day of the year, as excruciating as it could get at times. No matter how clear or detailed his instructions were, his housemates never seemed to understand how to clean properly. That, or they simply didn’t care, which Taehee didn’t understand. 

It was easy enough to be patient when it came to MC. After all, she was probably just tired. He could manage doing part of her share of the work.

But Biho and Hansol? Those two hardly ever performed up to par. Hansol would say that he had finished wiping the shelves, and Taehee would swipe a finger on the underside of the wood, and there would be a sheet of dust coating the pad of his finger.

Biho was no better. After making a towering stack of his books and simply leaving them in the corner of the room, he would find a place to sleep, even if it meant hiding under the bed to avoid Taehee’s attention. Or wrath. 

After a full three hours of back-breaking work that day, Taehee had neared his limit. The breaking point came when he just finished washing the toilets, and he arrived in the living room to the sight of all three of his housemates knocked out blissfully on the couch.

“You... haa...” He had no words. He was exhausted too, but the kitchen had yet to be touched. And yet the three of them were already resting as if they had accomplished a lot over the past three hours compared to him. 

In his mind, the list of chores still unfinished gnawed away at the remaining strands of his sanity. That wasn’t even including the things that he’d probably have to re-do, courtesy of his housemates’ terrible cleaning standards. 

The thought of the work left undone was enough to draw another long sigh from him as he deflated a little, a frown appearing on his face. Taking care of his house was a huge weight on his shoulders. In fact, it started getting a little too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

It took Taehee a hot minute to realise that the weight was no longer metaphorical.

“Ew. I’m finally out of the damn scroll after so long and the first thing I see is a guy’s sweaty back? What the hell?”

He heard a foreign voice in his ear. A man’s voice. And then he realised there were arms wrapped around him, as well as a pair of legs and unfamiliar shoes behind him.

Shoes. In the house. That he just mopped. Twice.

Taehee turned around, about to let loose a string of curses at whoever it was, when he realised just what exactly he was looking at. 

It was a man he didn’t know, dressed in some traditional cosplay, his curious grey eyes scanning the house around him. 

Instinctively he jumped back, confused and alarmed by the presence of a stranger whom he didn’t recall letting in. Where could he have come from? The doors had been locked and the windows were open but they certainly weren’t big enough for a man this size to crawl through easily.  

But wait... there was something familiar about him. Taehee couldn’t quite place his finger on it just yet, but he didn’t like the feeling of deja vu washing over him. Or the sense that this guy wasn’t just an ordinary man—if he was even human at all. 

“Hey.” Taehee’s attention snapped to the man who was now looking at him. He bristled, for some reason already disliking the guy and his narrow eyes. 

“Were you the one who summoned me?” the stranger questioned.

“What?” Taehee had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or both. It was probably from being overworked, which he blamed his housemates wholeheartedly for (except for MC). 

"Do you not speak Korean?” the stranger prodded when Taehee went silent for a tad too long.

“O-Of course I do,” he replied, not sure why he felt the need to be polite with this intruder. 

Wait. He didn’t. 

“How did you get in the house? I can call the police on you, this is trespassing.” 

“You’re asking me?” the strange man sputtered, raising his hands. “You’re the one who summoned me! You called my name!” 

He could at least come up with a more reasonable-sounding excuse. Taehee didn’t know who he was, let alone his name, for goodness’ sake. 

“I didn’t call your name. I don’t know who the hell you are, but explain yourself. Who are you and how did you get in here? I’m not joking when I said I will call the police,” Taehee warned, holding up the used toilet brush in his hand as a makeshift weapon. Even if it didn’t do much physical damage it would at least disgust the guy enough to make him go far away.

“Hey, hey, I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. I, need you, to explain to me where the hell I am. What year is it anyway? You guys have some interesting clothes,” he said, his eyes trailing over to the three sleeping housemates. How they were sleeping through this was beyond Taehee, but he felt alarm bells go off in his head when he noticed the man’s gaze lingering on MC’s sleeping form.

Before he could attack with the toilet brush though, suddenly a blinding white light engulfed the man, and Taehee had to squeeze his eyes shit. 

When he opened them again, the light had vanished and the man now sported a shorter haircut, his silver wavy locks styled in a more modern way. His costume had also disappeared, now replaced by a blue silk shirt, a silver necklace hanging around his neck and a pair of long black slacks. Thankfully, the shoes were gone. 

“There. Much better.” He walked casually over to the television to check out his appearance reflected on the blank screen. “Not bad,” the narcissist muttered to himself.

“What did you just do?”

“Changed into something more appropriate. You sure your brain is alright?”

Taehee ignored the insult. “You still haven’t explained yourself properly.” 

“I told you. You summoned me here by calling my name.”

He was quite persistent with this ridiculous story. Deciding to play along in case he could get more information out of him, Taehee asked, “What’s your name?”

The stranger stared at him like he was stupid, but Taehee maintained his frown long enough that the intruder finally relented begrudgingly with a dragged-out sigh. “It’s Yooha.”

Yoo-ha. Yooha? Taehee didn’t know anyone by that weird name, much less said it out loud for no reason.

Unless...

“You... haa....” 

Could it be... it was all because of that resigned sigh that had escaped his lips when he stepped into the living room just now? 

The realisation struck Taehee like a bucket of ice cold water being poured no him. That counted? Seriously? 

“What’s your name?" Yooha asked. 

“Taehee,” he replied thoughtlessly, before biting down on his tongue. This was hardly the time for introductions. “Now tell me, what are you? Where did you come from?”

In response, Yooha gestured casually to the wall by the television. More specifically, the painting that Biho had bought the other day, except now it looked ostensibly different: 

The man in it was no longer there.

“I was trapped in that painting, but you called my name so I was finally released,” he explained, the nonchalance in his drawl grating on Taehee’s nerves. Was this a joke to him? 

But... the more Taehee thought about it, the more he realised there was no other way to make sense of this bizarre situation. Yooha’s explanation seemed to be the only logical one, even if impossible. Unless, of course, he was dreaming. But a quick pinch to his arm and the sting that followed indicated that he wasn’t, quite unfortunately.

There was a groan, and Taehee glanced in Yooha’s direction. “What.”

“It’s just...” he scratched his head, his face contorting with a perplexed expression. “I’m not happy about this... but since you’re the one who summoned me out of the scroll, I’m now bound to you as a servant.”

“Come again?” Taehee gawked, which earned him an exasperated sigh.

“Of all things, I had to be bound to a mere goblin...” he grumbled to himself. Then, raising his head, he gave Taehee a hard look. “You’re not very smart, are you?”

“I’m a doctor. And wait- are you by any chance... a seon-ho?”

“Finally saying something sensible, are we?” the man scoffed with an eye roll. Taehee had to purse his lips into a thin line to keep from making a sharp remark. There was no need to prove himself to this complete stranger who was now calling him his... servant? The hell?

“So what,” Taehee began, “I’m your... master now?”

“Ugh, it sucks when you say it out loud, but yes. That’s right.” Yooha plopped onto an empty chair, stretching his limbs and settling into a comfortable position. He sort of resembled a cat.

“And who are they?” Yooha jabbed a finger at the pile of sloths as well as MC on the couch, who were still asleep. 

“The people I live with,” Taehee replied, eyes narrowing at him. 

“Three guys and a girl? What’s up with that?” 

“None of your business.”

“Ooh. Master is feisty.” He paused, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “Is it because of the girl?” 

“Shut up,” Taehee snapped quite uncharacteristically. It had been less than fifteen minutes and already this guy was seriously wearing his patience thin. “And stop calling me ‘Master’. It’s gross.”

"Yeah, I will. I almost threw up after saying that.” 

A moment of silence passed, neither knowing what to say. This was a weird situation, to say the least, and Taehee wasn’t sure if he had fully processed it yet. A lot had happened today and he just wanted to take a nice, hot shower and go to bed. Screw dinner, he was too tired to cook. Maybe when he woke up, this would all go away, including this pesky nuisance, and everything would go back to normal. 

“So...” Yooha spoke up, unceremoniously interrupting Taehee’s attempt to comfort himself. “What now?”

Taehee shrugged, but before he could say anything, he heard a voice. 

“Taehee...” MC mumbled. Her sweet voice usually made his heart flutter, but right then, it made his entire body go rigid. 

“Who’s that?” 

[wildwcmen]

basic information

Full Name: Francesca Mai Vu

Nickname(s): Frankie, almost exclusively

Age: 19-25

Date of Birth: December 21

Hometown: Upstate New York

Ethnicity: Vietnamese

Nationality: American

Gender: Cis Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Religion: Unknown

Occupation: Stand Up Comedian, Actress

Language(s) Spoken: English, Vietnamese

Voice: American accent, high pitched, giggly, excited voice

physical appearance

Face Claim: Lana Condor

Hair Colour: Black

Eye Colour: Dark brown

Height: 5′3

Weight: 121 lbs

Build: Petite, rectangle body shape, slightly large chest.

Tattoos: None.

Piercings: Ears

Clothing Style: Bright colors, neons, strange attire that turns heads, heart and star shaped sunglasses, ring pops as a fashion accessory, 80-90′s chic.

Usual Expression: Laughing loudly. You hear her before you see her.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Chubby cheeks, bob length haircut

health

Sleeping Habits: She can function on any amount of sleep. Don’t test her, she’ll pull an all nighter just to prove it.

Eating Habits: GOOD FOOD !! She loves Vietnamese food, for obvious reasons. Her mother is a baker and she’s very fond of sweets, pastries, candies, etc.

Exercise Habits: She exercises daily, mostly cardio with some strength training.

Emotional Stability: 8/10

Sociability: Social butterfly!!

Drug Use: Cannabis sometimes, otherwise no.

Alcohol Use: Socially.

personality

Label: The Clown

Positive Traits: funny, outgoing, personable.

Negative Traits: crass, doesn’t take things seriously, accidentally insensitive.

Fears: Failing her comedy career, having to go to school and get a day job

Hobbies: Comedy (watching/performing), acting, bike riding, exercising

Habits: Cracking her fingers

favourites

Weather: Hot, summer weather

Colour: Bright ass orange

Music: Funky pop music

Movies: Anything comedic, even if it’s terrible ! She loves “so bad it’s good” movies.

Sport: She’s not really attached to any specific sport

Beverage: Root Beer, strawberry lemonade

Food: Che Ba Mau

Animal: Unicorns

extra

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn/Sagittarius Cusp Sun, Taurus rising, Taurus Moon

MBTI: ESTJ

Enneagram: The Challenger

Temperament: Choleric

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor/Hufflepuff

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Primary Vice: Kindness

Primary Virtue: Gluttony

Element: Air

flaws

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | lies | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | avoidant | restless.

strengths

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny.

skills & hobbies

art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | beach combing | ballet | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather-working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling.

human verse

Frankie didn't grow up with much money, but she grew up with a lot of love. Her father was a struggling comedian for most of his adult life, and most of the family's money came through her mother's work as a chef. Frankie's father always told her to go into anything other than comedy, not wanting her to go through the same struggles that he went through. Frankie, of course, had her own ideas. She fell in love with comedy and started performing at clubs as a teenager. It was about that time, too, that her father finally found fame. In spite of his own success, Frankie's father still encouraged her to go to college rather than immediately pursuing comedy. She eventually drops out in favor of working and does very well for herself. Having her father's name tacked onto hers certainly helps. Frankie is playful and goofy, not taking much seriously.

[fuyumiworld]

The EℓyXiOn : Chapter 2 : Snow Blaze

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Snow brings a special quality with it,the

power to stop life as you know it dead in its

tracks

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

BERLIN. 05:07

Fuyumi had a total of 365 days to try to forget the exact shade of red that was Kris’s blood, Tao’s blood, even Althea’s blood when the assassins dug out the Tree’s essence from the slight women’s heart, but when the bartender pours her a complimentary glass of red wine after Fuyumi stumbles through the door with bloodshot eyes, it’s like a day hasn’t passed since she saw three of her closest friends, some of her only friends, die, and she could do nothing to stop it.

“Don’t want it,” she says lowly, pushing the glass back. If this wasn’t her normal bartender, Fuyumi might have thrown the glass to the ground. It’s for the better she doesn’t. Then, it really would look no different from the bloodbath that had occurred a year ago.

“You look rough,” says the bartender, his voice fuzzy with exhaustion. It’s too late—or just too early—for anyone to sensibly be here, but the bar is open twenty-four hours, closed only on Tuesdays, and with the crowd around Berlin, it’s never empty.

Fuyumi makes up only a handful of guests remaining, and she is by far the soberest. “It’s a rough day,” she admits, and before the bartender can start doing that magical thing of his that tempts Fuyumi to spill every single one of her secrets, confess every one of her sins, she gets off the barstool. “I think I’m just going to turn in. Let you have an easy one until dawn.”

“Take a shot for the road! It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“It’s fine, I got this.” Fuyumi pops on a fuzzy hunter’s hat, which protects her head, exposed now more than ever thanks to the short layered haircut she got in order fit in better with the Berliners. “And I have that bottle of whisky you recommended back at my place.”

The bartender grins. “That’s my girl.”

“Gute Nacht,” Fuyumi chimes as she steps out the bar and into the dark.

It’s louder outside than in the bar. Berlin loathes sleep. A light always burns, a building always churns out the thud of music, voices caught in the distance, carrying on a wind. For how sprawled out the city is, a beat carries across its veins, keeping the whole place alive.

Fuyumi has spent nights like these joining the nocturnal crowd. She wanders block by block, walking long distances that could be felt in her joints the next day. Every time she runs into someone on these predawn explorations, she wonders if it’s them.

Almost four million people in one city, and not once has Fuyumi ever seen a glimpse of one of the Guardians. She has scrutinized faces, trying to draw details onto them that aren’t there. A map of facial moles; a jaw sculpted finer than a statue’s; lips as downy as the pillows she hoards on her bed.

Today, the thought of EXO becomes more painful than ever. She can’t bare another walk spent on hoping, longing for a family She once took for granted.

She goes home to a shabby upstairs apartment, swinging the key around her finger on the five-minute walk over from the bar. It’s freezing outside, but lucky for Fuyumi, she has always liked the cold.

Not that she can do much with it anymore. Once, with the furrow of her brow, or the quirk of her lips, Fuyumi would be able to cast a layer of frost across every surface in sight, but ever since she was ripped away from her friends,since their last mission, she can barely drop the temperature around her to sub-zero with a heavy sigh.

At least she can still chill her whisky glass with touch alone. As soon as she’s back in her apartment, She grabs the first clean glass in her cabinet and carries it while rummaging for the whisky bottle she always places just a toe out of reach, so she’d be less tempted to knock an extra glass back at the end of the night. By the time she brings it down from the shelf, frost lattices the glass, a filigree of stark white outmatching the carven designs.

She pours two fingers worth of liquid fire and plops down onto the couch. The TV setup that came with the apartment is powered off. Usually she finds no need for its programs, but she wants them tonight. Left to her thoughts, and she’ll be seeing red all over again.

She turns on the TV and looks for a soccer match to watch. It’s a sport she has come to enjoy while stuck on this planet.

A channel broadcasts the German women’s national team’s friendly match with Nigeria from earlier in the week. She has already heard the score and a highlight reel from chatter around her, which it makes it all that more comforting to watch.

she tries to relax into her seat and simply watch as the ball darts across the field.

It has only been a minute of playtime, when she looks over the scoreboard broadcasted on the corner of her screen. Germany vs Nigeria.

Nigeria…

Could one of the Guardians be there?

She throws her head back and groans. It turns out soccer isn’t safe for her mind either. Matches between different countries always makes her question whether she is in the right place. What if Junmyeon has made a home in Argentina? What if Baekhyun is part of the South African crowd, cheering obnoxiously louder than the rest?

And if that isn’t the question on her mind—thewhere—then the other is: is she trying hard enough to find her family?

Watching the players sweat and fight and hit the grass hard enough to bruise reminds of every single battle Fuyumi has waged and defended. Every sweat-soaked, blood-drenched, frost-ridden fight he has carried out as a member of EXO. Back to back with Bronte, dealing out punches as Noa holds back her enemy, using Junmyeon’s conjured water as supply to feed her own war path of ice and fury.

All of it is scar tissue now, but she picks at it every so often, indulging in the pain of memories. She’d reopen any wound if it meant being back with EXO.

Then why has she stayed here this whole time? Since appearing in Germany’s largest city, she has never made any attempt to step beyond the country’s borders. she has searched Berlin’s streets, its bars, its museums and railways for EXO, but has stretched no further.

Around 7.7 billion people in this world, gathered together in countries and provinces and villages. How is she to know where eight people fit into that jigsaw of civilization?

she brings her head back down to watch the game.

The match has been erased from the TV screen. All color has leeched out from the picture, and so have shapes and solid sound. Though the remote rests out of her grasp, the channel has seemed to change over to something strange—something she has never seen broadcasted before.

The screen is made up of numbers, words, flickering pixels of black and white, pumping like a heartbeat. The newfound light strobes across the darkened room. Fuyumi’s face is painted in streaks of white one moment, before falling into true darkness the next.

Then, all at once, the screen freezes. While it has gone still, the room hums with new life, an energy that raises the hair along Fuyumi’s arms.

Through petrified streaks of black and white cutting through the screen, barely seeable through static, is a series of numbers.

She rips a page out of a nearby book and searches for a pen. By the time she finds one beneath the coffee table, she’s afraid to look back at the screen, in case the haphazard numbers have vanished.

They’re still there, and she drops to her knees right in front of the screen in order to make them out as clearly as possible. she copies them down onto the ripped page, digging the pen’s tip so it threatens to split the paper.

Once she is certain she has them written correctly, copied over in bold so they overpower the printed words of the damaged book, she lowers the pen and paper.

She stretches her hand towards the screen to see if it will move under her touch. The closer she gets, the louder the hum grows around her. Louder, louder, LOUD—

Electricity lances up her arm, so jarring she yelps and tumbles onto her backside. The power is snuffed out from the TV, and the screen goes dark, taking all light with it.

Seated in the dark, shaking from the bolt of electricity that ran up and down her body, using her spinal cord like a conduit, an incredulous laugh leaves her chest. “Bronte,” She murmurs. “It’s you.”

It has to be. Who else has such a striking power? Who else has a knack for the impossible?

Fuyumi has no idea how Bronte found her. She has no idea where the thunder Guardian is leading her, but she will follow. She would follow her blind, would follow her numb.

And though Fuyumi has gotten used to the cold, once loved it like another brother even, this burst of heat coursing through her body is something she treasures more.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Do all the ROs look the same as they did when they were younger? For example, has Tallys kept her short hair all throughout her 200 years?

Hmm, good question! If we’re talking about looks in terms of haircuts, fashion sensibilities, and etc...

Blade looks pretty much the same now as he did when he was a teenager!

Trouble has gone through a series of ill-advised haircuts throughout his life, starting with a shaved head when he was a rambunctious gang member and just,, growing it out and looking generally awful (there may have been a mullet phase)... He looks a lot better now!

Tallys actually had very long hair (down to her butt in a loose braid) for much of her childhood and adolescence. It was only after the destruction of her clan that she cut it all off, and she’s gotten quite a bit more muscular than she was in her youth.  

Shery looks exactly the same as she always has, lol.

Riel also looks similar to how he did say a decade ago, though he’s taken to slicking his hair back with gel when he hadn’t before. Also, once he grew out a mustache and then wanted to die, so that will never happen again.

Chase has probably undergone one of the most dramatic changes in appearance throughout his lifetime, going through different phases in his life: when he was a pirate he was just shirtless and vested and pierced and his hair was slicked back... think like corsair fuckboi... when he first joined the thieves guild he was all bright-eyed and short-haired and wanting to fit in... now he’s more stylish and carefully tousled and slouchy...  

Red’s hair and clothes have remained largely the same (though he updates his look accordingly with the times), but he has grown facial hair at various points, to the lamenting and shuddering of his admirers!

Ayla’s hair was very, very short when she was younger (practically buzzed down to the scalp), and it’s taken a long time for it to grow out into the heavy chest-length braid she sports now. Her clothes have remained the same, though!

Lavinet is also someone who’s undergone a ton of appearance changes throughout her life. She’s chopped her hair off to chin-length only once in a move to scandalize the court (it worked), she dyes her hair quite frequently, and of course her fashions change with every season (the only commonality being they make her look rich). Otherwise, though, she’s remained recognizable pretty consistently!

[yuckitup-jwd]

Men VS Women

Women have many faults Men only have 2 Everything they say And everything they do

RELATIONSHIPS: First, a man does not call a relationship a relationship - he refers to it as "that time when me and Suzie were boinking on a semi-regular basis."

When a relationship ends, a woman will cry and pour her heart out to her girlfriends, and she will write a poem titled "All Men Are Idiots." Then she will get on with her life.

A man has a little more trouble letting go. Six months after the breakup at 3 am early on a Sunday morning - he will call and say "I just wanted to let you know you ruined my life, and I'll never forgive you, and I hate you, and you're a total floozy. But I want you to know there's always a chance for us." This is known as the "I Hate You/I Love You" drunken phone call, that 99% of all men have made at least once. There are community colleges that offer courses to help men get over this need; alas these classes rarely prove effective.

SEX: Women prefer 30-45 minutes of foreplay.

Men prefer 30-45 seconds of foreplay. Men consider driving back to her place as part of the foreplay.

MATURITY: Women mature much faster than men. Most 17-year-old females can function as adults.

Most 17-year-old males are still trading baseball cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class. This is why high school romances rarely work out.

COMEDY: Let's say a small group of men and women are in a room, watching tele- vision, and an episode of "The Three Stooges" comes on. Immediately, the men will get very excited - they will laugh uproariously, and even try to imitate the actions of Curly, man's favorite Stooge.

The women will roll their eys, groan, and wait it out.

HANDWRITING: To their credit, men do not decorate their penmanship. They just chicken-scratch.

Women use scented, colored stationery and they dot their "i's" with circles and hearts. Women use ridiculously large loops in their "p's" and "g's." It is a royal pain to read a note from a woman. Even when she's dumping you, she'll put a smiley face at the end of the note.

BATHROOMS: A man has at most seven items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, shampoo, a bar of soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn.

The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.

MAGAZINES: Men's magazines often feature pictures of naked women.

Women's magazines also feature pictures of naked women. This is because the female body is a beautiful work of art, while the male body is hairy and lumpy and should not be seen by the light of day.

GROCERIES: A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes to the store and buys these things.

A man waits until the only items left in his fridge are half of a lemon, and something turning green. Then he goes grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. By the time he reaches the checkout counter, his cart is packed tighter than the Clampett's car on The Beverley Hillbillies. Of course, this will not stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.

GOING OUT: When a man says he's ready to go out, it means he's ready to go out.

When a woman says she's ready to go out, it means that she WILL be ready to go out, as soon as she finds her other earring, finishes putting on her makeup...

SHOES: When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, and then slip into Reebok sneakers. She will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When she arrives at work, she will put on her dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under her desk.

A man wears one pair of shoes for the entire day.

CATS: Women love cats.

Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.

MIRRORS: Men are vain; they will check themselves out in the mirror.

Women are ridiculous; they will check out their reflections in any shiny surface - mirrors, spoons, store windows, toasters, Joe Garagiola's head...

GARAGES: Women use garages to park their cars and to store their lawnmowers.

Men use garages for many things. They hang license plates in garages, they watch TV in garages, and they build useless wooden things in garages.

MOVIES: For women, their favorite movie scene is when Clark Gable kisses Vivien Leigh for the first time in "Gone With The Wind."

For men, it's when Jimmy Cagney shoves a grapefruit in Mae Clark's face in "Public Enemy."

JEWELRY: Women look nice when they wear jewelry.

A man can get away with wearing one ring, and that's it. Any more than that, and he will look like a lounge singer named Vic.

MENOPAUSE: When a woman reaches menopause, she goes through a variety of complicated emotional, psychological, and biological changes. The nature and degree of the changes varies with the individual.

Menopause in a man provokes a uniform reaction. He buys aviator glasses, a snazzy French cap, leather driving gloves, and goes shopping for an expensive foreign sports car.

THE TELEPHONE: Men see the telephone as a communications tool. They use the telephone to send short messages to other people.

A woman can visit her girlfriend for two weeks, and upon returning home, she will call the same friend and they will talk for three hours.

LOW BLOWS: Let's say a man and a woman are watching a boxing match on television, and one of the fighters is felled by a low blow.

The woman says, "Oh, gee, that must hurt."

The man doubles over and actually feels the pain.

DIRECTIONS: If a woman is out driving and she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she will stop at a gas station and ask for directions.

Men consider this to be a sign of weakness. A man will never stop and ask for directions. Men will drive in a circle for hours, all the while saying things like, "Looks like I've found a new way to get there," and, "I know I'm in the neighborhood. I recognize that White Hen store."

ADMITTING MISTAKES: Women will sometimes admit making a mistake.

The last man who admitted that he was wrong was General George Custer.

RICHARD GERE: Women like Richard Gere because he is sexy in a dangerous way.

Men hate Richard Gere because he reminds them of that slick guy who works out at the health club and dates only married women.

DRESSING UP: A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a book, get the mail...

A man will dress up for: weddings and funerals.

NUDITY IN MOVIES: Every actress in the history of movies has had to do a nude scene. This is because every movie in the history of movies has been produced by men.

The only actor who has ever appeard nude in the movies is Richard Gere. This is another reason why men hate him.

DAVID LETTERMAN: Men think David Letterman is the funniest man on the face of the earth.

Women think he is a mean, semi-dorky guy who always has a bad haircut.

CAMERAS: Men take photography very seriously. They'll shell out $4000 for state- of-the-art equipment, and build darkrooms, and take photography classes.

Women purchase Kodak Insta-matics, and often produce better-looking shots.

POLITICS: Men love to talk about politics, but they often forget to do political things such as voting.

Women are very happy that another generation of Kennedys are growing up and getting into politics, because they will be able to campaign for them and cry on election night.

LOCKER ROOMS: In the locker room, men talk about three things: money, football, and women. They exaggerate about money, they don't know football nearly as well as they think they do, and they fabricate stories about women.

Women talk about one thing in the locker room - sex. Not in abstract terms, either. They're graphic and technical, and they *never* lie.

LAUNDRY: Women do laundry every couple of days.

A man will wear every article of clothing he owns, including his surgical pants that were hip about eight years ago, before he will do his laundry. When he is finally out of clothes, he will wear a dirty sweatshirt inside out, rent a U-Haul and take his mountain of clothes to the laundromat, and expect to meet a beautiful woman while he is there.

WEDDINGS: When reminiscing about weddings, women talk about the "ceremony."

Men talk about "the bachelor party."

GYM SOCKS: Men wear sensible socks. They wear standard white sweatsocks.

Women wear strange socks. They are cut way below the ankles, have pictures of clouds on them, and have a big fuzzy ball on the back.

TOYS: Little girls love to play with toys. Then, when they reach the age of 11 or 12, they lose interest.

Men never grow out of their obsession with toys. As they get older, their toys simply become more expensive and impractical. Examples of mens toys: miniature TV's, car phones, complicated juicers and blenders, graphic equalizers, small robots that serve cocktails on command, video games, and anything that blinks, beeps and requires at least six "D" batteries to operate.

PLANTS: A woman will ask a man to water her plants while she is on vacation. The man will water the plants. The woman returns five days later, to an apartment full of dead plants. No one knows why this happens.

NICKNAMES: With the exception of female body-builders, who call each other names like "Ultimate Pecs" and "Big Turk," women eschew the use of nicknames. If Gloria, Suzanne, Deborah and Michelle get together for lunch, they will call each other Gloria, Suzanne, Deborah and Michelle.

But if Mike, Dave, and Jack go out for a brewski, they will affectionately refer to each other as Peckerhead, Scumbag, and Louse.

There are five things that women should never, ever ask a guy, according to an article in last April's issue of Sassy magazine.

The five questions are: 1 - "What are you thinking?" 2 - "Do you love me?" 3 - "Do I look fat?" 4 - "Do you think she is prettier than me?" 5 - "What would you do if I died?"

What makes these questions so bad is that every one is guaranteed to explode into a major argument and/or divorce if the man does not answer properly, which is to say dishonestly. For example: 1 - "What are you thinking?"

The proper answer to this question, of course is, "I'm sorry if I've been pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful woman you are and what a lucky guy I am to have met you." Obviously, this statement bears no resemblance whatsoever to what the guy was really thinking at the time, which was most likely one of five things: a - Baseball b - Football c - How fat you are d - How much prettier she is than you e - How he would spend the insurance money if you died

According to the Sassy article, the best answer to this stupid question came from Al Bundy, of Married With Children, who was asked it by his wife, Peg. "If I wanted you to know," Al said, "I'd be talking instead of thinking."

The other questions also have only one right answer but many wrong answers: 2 - "Do you love me?"

The correct answer to this question is, "Yes." For those guys who feel the need to be more elaborate, you may answer, "Yes, dear." Wrong answers include: a - I suppose so. b - Would it make you feel better if I said yes? c - That depends on what you mean by "love". d - Does it matter? e - Who, me?

3 - "Do I look fat?"

The correct male response to this question is to quickly, confidently, and emphatically state, "No, of course not" and then quickly leave the room. Wrong answers include: a - I wouldn't call you fat, but I wouldn't call you thin either. b - Compared to what? c - A little extra weight looks good on you. d - I've seen fatter. e - Could you repeat the question? I was thinking about your insurance policy

4 - "Do you think she's prettier than me?"

The "she" in the question could be an ex-girlfriend, a passer-by you were staring at so hard that you almost caused a traffic accident or an actress in a movie you just saw. In any case, the correct response is, "No, you are much prettier." Wrong answers include: a - Not prettier, just pretty in a different way. b - I don't know how one goes about rating such things. c - Yes, but I bet you have a better personality. d - Only in the sense that she's younger and thinner. e - Could you repeat the question? I was thinking about your insurance policy.

5 - "What would you do if I died?"

Correct answer: "Dearest love, in the event of your untimely demise, life would cease to have meaning for me and I would perforce hurl myself under the front tires of the first Domino's Pizza truck that came my way." This might be the stupidest question of the lot, as is illustrated by the following stupid exchange: "Dear," said the wife. "What would you do if I died?" "Why, dear, I would be extremely upset," said the husband. "Why do you ask such a question?" "Would you remarry?" persevered the wife. "No, of course not, dear" said the husband. "Don't you like being married?" said the wife. "Of course I do, dear" he said. "Then why wouldn't you remarry?" "Alright," said the husband, "I'd remarry." "You would?" said the wife, looking vaguely hurt. "Yes" said the husband. "Would you sleep with her in our bed?" said the wife after a long pause. "Well yes, I suppose I would." replied the husband. "I see," said the wife indignantly. "And would you let her wear my old clothes? "I suppose, if she wanted to" said the husband. "Really," said the wife icily. "And would you take down the pictures of me and replace them with pictures of her?" "Yes. I think that would be the correct thing to do." "Is that so?" said the wife, leaping to her feet. "And I suppose you'd let her play with my golf clubs, too." "Of course not, dear," said the husband. "She's left-handed..."

[unified-multiversal-theory]

the trappings of femininity

I’m giving up another one tonight. I swore off up makeup ages ago. I last bought some when I got married. The next time I wore it was for a job interview, three years later. After that I threw it all away. Six more years passed before I wore it again, this time for my sister’s wedding. There’s only one more person I’m willing to do that for, and I’m betting she won’t even ask.  Shaving was next. I stopped over the winter every year for a long time, just to get used to it. Then about a year after I got married, I never bothered to shave again once spring rolled around. I mostly wear long pants, so that also helped me ease into being public about not shaving, but I no longer think about my leg hair when I go swimming or on the rarest occasions when I wear shorts or capris or whatever. I’m working on wearing tank tops without shame. It’s getting better. Skirts have been gone a long time. I don’t remember the last time I wore one (though it was probably my sister’s wedding). I still own one, although it’s about two sizes too small now, and I’m not entirely certain why it’s still in my closet. I should konmari that thing and be done with it. I embraced the short-as-a-men’s-haircut last summer. Turns out, hot flashes are a great motivator. And I like how it shows off all the silver I’m getting. Specifically women’s clothing is pretty much out the door, too. I’m tall. I’m fat. I’m sick to death of flimsy fabric and polyester. I still buy women’s jeans because I can get tall plus sizes from a catalog, but never anything skinny or low-cut. I buy men’s tees exclusively now. I avoid frilly shit (it’s just not me). Sensible shoes that fit me are “men’s” too.  The next step: bras. I tried giving them up about the time I quit shaving my legs, but then I got pregnant. That gave me a whole other reason to wear bras (or at least nursing tank tops), and after I quit lactating, I still had to get used to the increase in size. I made forays into braless-ness back when I lived in Philly, but always came back. My brain always had an excuse, some physical “reason” I needed to wear one: sweat, wind burn, chafing. I knew, though, deep down, that the real reason was psychological discomfort at nonconformity.

I made some progress, anyway. I chose less and less feminine bras; migrated from underwire to no-wire to sports bras to ones that were basically like pantyhose for your boobs. Now those are starting to wear out, and I’m not particularly interested in replacing them. I realized yesterday that, while I wear bras to work, I often spend an entire day at home without a bra on, and never once notice. I only remember to put one on when I’m going to be around people in some formal situation. Sometimes I can go to the store without one on, and it’s not a big deal. I did it yesterday, without thinking.

So today began the experiment. I purposefully spent the day without a bra, going to multiple appointments, and getting together with friends for lunch. Tomorrow I’m going to take my son to the driving range in the morning, and I won’t wear one then. I have a volunteer commitment after that, and I won’t change clothes for it, either. I’ll spend the rest of the day either at a friend’s house or at home, and then on Friday, when I have to go to work, I won’t wear one either. I will wear a men’s tee shirt and jeans, like always, and my work apron, like always. 

I will be a woman in her natural state in a professional setting, a public place. And if I’m correct, it will be just like it was today: I put on my shirt, my pants, my shoes, and promptly forgot that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I wasn’t self-conscious at all, no matter who I saw or spoke to. I remembered it only once, when I decided to write this post. (It took another Tumblr post about makeup to remind me to actually do it.)

I’m not done yet. I still have room to grow. I still conform to gender expectations in some ways. I’m still partnered with a man and raising the child to whom I gave birth. I am working on walking confidently, not deferring to male voices and opinions reflexively, not apologizing for myself, and expressing myself without prefacing or qualifiers.  Regardless of how far I have to go, I’m going to be proud of myself for this. I’m learning to love my body as it is, and to let myself be how I am. It’s taken more than half of my adult life to get to this point, but I have the rest of my adult life to enjoy it.

[fifteenleads]

That Evening

Mitsu came home with short hair.

Souji hadn’t seen his older sister sport anything above shoulder-length since she graduated from high school. Back then, he had just started third grade, and most of the boys in his class already idolized “Okita-neesama” even though they didn’t know what the word ‘crush’ was just yet. Any grown-up who liked video games and soccer could only be on their side, after all. “None of you know what she’s like at home,” a then-freshman Hijikata would grumble from the side as Mitsu waved the last of Souji’s friends good-bye. He promptly received a heeled boot to his shin for it.

Come to think of it, she’d started showing that more feminine side of hers when she met Rintarou at the clinic they frequented. Souji decided that seeing his sister fall in love and do a 180-degree transformation was worth going to weekly chemotherapy for, the balding and vomiting and dizzy spells notwithstanding. Trying on different wigs every day was quite fun, too, but that got old way too quickly, however.

It was not unheard of for kids his age to get leukemia during senior year, of all times, Rintarou had said. Doctor Matsumoto had broken the news just a bit more gently to them on an evening appointment just like this, and it had all but broken Mitsu’s heart. Though it hurt Souji to find out he might not have long to live, the thought of bringing much suffering to his only sister terrified him more than anything. Still, she put on a brave smile for both of them and gently patted a hand on his aching head. “You’ll be okay, my baby brother,” she had said. “Mommy will make sure of that.”

“But you’re not my mom,” Souji had countered, chuckling for the first time in what had seemed like days to them. The spring of his fourth grade had begun with a car accident that took Mom and Dad away, resulting in Mitsu’s untimely Promotion to Parent despite having just started university the next town over. She had dropped out and moved back home temporarily after the funeral “until everything is settled.”

“I know.” Mitsu grinned, the exact same one she gave him back then. Typical Mitsu, as always, even after so long.

To Souji, all that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, a year later, there were less tear-stained Kleenexes to clean up and more food stains to wash off the tablecloth instead. Every day and every thing was a blessing, even spilled food. They managed to get this far together, after all.

“Souji! Do you want bubble tea or not?” Mitsu popped her head into the room, breaking him out of his reverie. Admittedly, the new pixie cut didn’t do much for her angled jawline, but maybe it was only their differing sensibilities talking.

“You know I never refuse anything sweet,” Souji laughed, hobbling towards the doorway with a sturdy cane gifted by Hijikata’s father. “Why the haircut, though? Didn’t you have a date with Rintarou tonight?”

“C’mon, don’t sweat the details! I also have these chick-flicks you’ve been secretly adding to my Netflix account,” Mitsu smirked, relishing the rapidly-growing blush on his pale face. “And we’re gonna wear your hideous animé wigs all night, so no complaining.”

“Animé is a Japanese man’s soul!” Souji whined indignantly while letting his laughing sister in. Yup, definitely differing sensibilities at work here.

“That’s what Hijikata said.” Mitsu stuck her tongue out at him, closing the door behind her. “Still can’t believe how close you two are sometimes!” He stuck his tongue out back at her in retaliation, and they both doubled over in laughter.

That evening, Souji recounted at her wedding reception years later, was one of the most memorable in his life. “She’s the best mom I could ever ask for.”

[ocular-intercourse]

OC MASTERPOST

Alright, putting this together you really notice how old most of these characters are, theres a lot of cliched and coincidental stuff in there that i & others came up with when i was 15-21. Finn got the whole brunt of my edgy scene teen angst phase... but then again Asher is brand new and not looking any better so there’s that. Sorry children, i love the drama. Also all of them being queer men is absolutely just teenage me living out my queer male identity through them before i even knew it hasghj.

NAME/NICKNAME: Finnegan Bastien Jeong-Bak / Finn, Junebug (by his fans) (his terrible mish mash of a name is product of his parents forcefully pushing their heritage away to make it easier for Finn to fit in, once they reached his sister they were more relaxed about the problem)

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 27 years / 17.04.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: French Canadian / Asian (South Korean)

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / bisexual (probably pan if he’d be more informed)

FAMILY: FATHER | Jin Hee Jeong | 48 years | janitor | very difficult relationship, for most of his life he considered his father to be a good dad till the drinking started and then the abuse, hes still not quite ready to let his relationship with his father go, so he keeps in contact, which often led to fights with Shawn, as well as the fact that Finn still has not outed himself in front of his father out of fear of rejection

MOTHER | Yeon Soo Bak | 47 years | owns a café | similarly rocky, they are now at a good point but he knows his mother struggles with his identity and life choices, so much she tried to manipulate a lot of things in the past but learned to leave that be, he is grateful towards her for leaving his father when she did. he bought her a café cause he loves her so much

SISTER | Sun Marise Haywood, née Jeong-Bak | 24 years | stay at home mom | he was always close to his sister, she just assimilated into his friend group in high school, and still is an important part of his life, or is again, they had a phase of not talking after some jealousy issues regarding his relationship with Shawn and her friendship with him, Sun is very protective over her brother and his mental instability and does her best to keep him healthy. That includes a very strict anti-Shawn stance, regarding the pain he has caused her brother in the past. Sun is happily married and has a daughter, a fact that somewhat relieves Finn, at least someone in the family that fulfills their mother’s wishes.

NIECE | Molly Florence Haywood | 4 months | A literal baby. Finn famously is not very keen on children, especially babies and goes out of their way. His niece however managed to steal his heart, plus he can just give her back to her mother when she becomes troublesome, the ideal arrangement. He likes to spoil her.. not that she would care at this point.

HALFBROTHER | Bryant Cole Reno | 7 years | student | His father’s illegitimate child with an American prostitute. Classy. But not Bryant’s fault. Finn learned of his existence when he was 3 and has since then sort of taken part in raising him, not that he would ever consider that to be true. He is very sensible to his brothers living conditions considering the bad stuff he himself experienced growing up, and does his best to ensure him to grow up happy and healthy, which includes denying him contact with their father (despite not pulling the same measures for himself). Bryant is a smart kid, overachieving, Finn already feels like he is dancing circles around him, and truly does not know where the kid gets it from.

FRIENDS: Noteworthy are on the Canadian side: His childhood/youth best friend Kitty (deceased), almost equally important Logan & Colin (all three of them share a brain cell), his ex-girlfriend of 5 years Emily (rocky long distance friendship atm), ex-affair & close friend Raphael (his voice of reason). On the American side: Close friends Randy (trashfire bff) & Jade (cinnamon bun), his ex-boyfriend of ~4 years Shawn (heartbreak!!).

S.O.: No one atm cause he is, even after 2 years apart, still very much desperately hung up on Shawn and not getting over that breakup anytime soon. Learning that Shawn is in a new relationship has thoroughly pulled the rug out from under him and left him questioning why Shawn managed to move on so much quicker (and if the other guy is more attractive than him). He also struggles very much with the fact that Shawn has made extremely positive progress in the two years without him (unable to see that the same is applicable to himself too).

I guess that still deserves an entry here:

Shawn Alexander | 28 years | currently Barkeeper & Musician | Shawn comes from a rich family and therefore has the polar opposite starting conditions to Finn, but nonetheless experienced many shared interests, but also miseries, from abusive fathers to drug use. With two general distinctions: While Finn’s mother acted after discovering the abuse, Shawn’s mother stayed complicit. While Shawn escaped into his heroin addiction, Finn developed an strict anti-drug stance after Kitty’s death. They were a volatile mixture, the good times were extraordinarily good, the bad ones catastrophic, with Finn quickly acting out when cornered and Shawn reacting aggressively, their fights were often ruthless. Finn has considered many times since they broke up that maybe people who love each other, even this strongly, are not necessarily automatically meant to be together. That does naturally not have any impact on his feelings or his lacking ability to act reasonable when it comes to emotions.

OCCUPATION: Professional Tennis Player (out of spite)

CHARACTER: self-confident | loving (to ppl close to him), mostly distant or rude to ppl he does not know | does not hide his moodiness or discontent just to be polite | charming | energetic | passionate | ambitious | helpful & loyal towards his loved ones | savior/helper syndrome | self-sacrificing | engaging | resourceful | proud | vain | irritable | competitive | playful | needy | keeps problems to himself | mayor problem with authority figures | moody | hyperactive | has NO patience for stuff that does not interest him/seem unimportant to him | messy | unforgiving | stubborn | struggles with feelings of guilt towards many things | has bipolar disorder and changes between episodes of excessive confidence, an appetite for risk, high motivation and sex drive, and episodes of apathy and depression with reoccurring suicidal ideations, but he has in later years learned to manage these mood swings better with a mixture of medication and rigid routines

ABILITIES: highly athletic, good cook, excellent singer & musician, good technical understanding (esp. towards cars), fluent in french (native) & english, minor knowledge of korean

INTERESTS: cooking, music, sports, cars, video games, podcasts about movies, games, techincal innovations and whatever obscure topic interests him at the moment (podcasts, games and other media is stuff that he only recently discovered for himself, since his job does not allow for a lot of time with his friends, so that’s his compensation)

APPEARANCE: 6′3″ tall and muscular (but too lean for his liking, he cannot built up mass for the love of it), dark brown eyes and nearly black hair, currently a little over chin long but worn in a bun or ponytail (he feels like short hair makes him look like a child, but he’s also just too busy/lazy to get haircuts every couple of weeks), a prominent scar runs through his left eyebrow, he has multiple tattoos, a flower pattern on the inside of his right arm, a skeleton with a laurel wreath on the inside of his left arm, a geometric pattern just above his ankle on the inside of his right leg, more geometric patterns on his shoulder blades and a moth in the middle just below his neck

PLOTPOINTS: born in Montreal to south korean parents | best friends with Kitty (Catherine) | best friends with Logan & Colin | struggles in school because of growing up with multiple languages, hyperactivity and later problems with authority figures | free time either spent on the streets with his friends or with his father at his job as a mechanic | relationship with Emily age 13 | growing behavioral issues at first misunderstood as ‘only’ adhd | starting music (drumming, later other instruments) & sport (tennis) to make him tired | dedication to sport & music as compensation for bad schoolwork, to show he’s at least good at something | father loses job, becomes driving instructor | move to poorer area of town | added stress in family setting | with 15 diagnosis BPD after behavioral issues became increasingly dangerous | Finn becomes aware of his father’s drinking problem, often being the one to take care of him during and after these times | with 16 affair with 25 yo Raphael (in hindsight Finn finds this somewhat alarming) | more time spent away from the family, more time on the streets with minor criminal activities & drug use (in varying degrees, Kitty taking heroin being the strongest) | school work evens out through good grades in subjects he was interested in vs bad grades in everything else | with 18 family vacation in New York, Finn meets Shawn, they have an ons | break-up with Emily, after she finds out about his affair & one-night-stands | after Finn & the others were away for another vacation they come back to find out that Kitty has used the opportunity to kill herself with a planned overdose, Finn never reads the good-bye letter, he spends the next months in a state of emotional crisis and gives up on finishing school, when he can get out of bed he spends his time with sports as an distraction | Jin-hee’s alcoholism & job clash as he and a student get in an accident with alcohol in Jin-hee’s system, he loses his job and the trial, now having to pay heavy compensation for the damages, pushing the family further into poverty | Finn and his father start to fight more and more, with Jin-hee’s condition worsening and Finn provoking him, either actively, or by choosing not to carry his weight in the family and generally being an undesirable son, resulting in Jin-hee venting his anger by hitting his son | with Finn turning 21 his mother definitively discovers what had been going on, she leaves Jin-hee in an ugly divorce, takes her kids & moves to New York | despite everything Finn keeps contact with his father and has somehow managed to mostly forgive him | Finn & Shawn meet again & quickly end up in a relationship | when Finn learns about Shawn’s heroin addiction he wants to end things, but decides to give him a chance | what follows is 4-5 years up and down with two break-ups, one after a series of misunderstandings and meddling from Yeon that end up with Finn cheating, another one after a burned Shawn learns, after giving it another chance, about things that Finn has hidden from him, such as Jin-hee’s illegitimate child that Finn himself has only recently met, and a row of events unfold that lead to Shawn attempting but failing suicide | when he learns about it Finn declares Shawn as dead in his eyes and tells him he never wants to see him again | another emotional crisis for Finn and again he throws himself into sports to drown out the bad thoughts and make himself too tired to think, only this time he meets the right people and with the right support ends up gliding into the professional sports world | he spends the next two years building up his carrer like a madman and thoroughly enjoys being occupied at all times, as well as for the first time in his life having a stable and strict rhythm to his days, a healthy sleep cycle & positive reaffirmation that help with his mental stability.. oh, and he’s pining for Shawn of course

BONUS INFO: I created him when i was a wee teen but wrote him in different RPGs almost till today, so there were a lot of different versions and revisions. Originally he was a caucasian redhead, it was only years later that i put it together that much of his family dynamics and some of his character would very much fit a minority/immigrant narrative. He was always french-canadian, but in the beginning he moved to England instead of New York (fun fact: it was Canterbury, which is why i later used the city for Teddy instead). Really sad to have lost Shawn’s accent, but honestly it makes much more sense for the city to be so much closer to home. If i would call any of my OCs my main OC it would definitely be Finn, he is my obsession, there’s next to no days where i don’t imagine him in some sort of scenario, AU or canon. I am however hesitant to use him for anything, since part of his story, meaning Shawn’s character, belongs to my friend Mel, who i’ve lost contact with. When i was last writing him in a RPG i used korean actor Kim Bum for his faceclaim, and i still like to reference his pictures, look him up and you’ll see what i mean with Finn looking younger with shorter hair.

NAME/NICKNAME: Wendell Theodore Parker / Teddy

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 19 years / 23.09.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: British / Caucasian (or whatever the god side counts as)

BASED ON: originally comes from a Percy Jackson RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis Male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | Julien Samuel Parker | 45 years | cardiologist

MOTHER | Demeter | goddess of harvest, agriculture & fertility of the earth

STEPMOTHER | Katherine Marie Parker | 44 years | lector

HALF-BROTHER | Bradley Howard Parker | 24 years | author (alias J. B. Baxter)

HALF-SISTER | Amanda Carrie Parker | 20 years | student of cultural sciences

+ a shitton of half-siblings on Demeter’s side

FRIENDS: Rufus Whitmore | 19 years | Son of Apollo | Actually Zeke’s best friend and No. 1 in the ‘kick Zeke in the ass to make him stand by his feelings club’ which is why Teddy is phenomally thankful for the support. Maybe due to his dad Rufus generally has a very healing, hardworking and good-natured personality, though combined with a bit of a superiority complex.

Caspar Renier | 19 years | Son of Dyonisus | With Dyonisus practically being the party god and all Caspar is very much the agent of chaos in Teddy’s life. He lives for experiencing new and exciting things and likes to incite the same in others. While Teddy loves all things safe, Caspar brings the risk, but somehow the two manage not to annoy each other, but to balance things out. Caspar is Teddy’s best friend since the early days of the academy and reason for many good things that Teddy would have otherwise been too timid about.

Riley O’Donovan | 20 years | Son of Ares | Basically Teddy’s arch nemesis since the early academy days. For some reason he has decided that Teddy was just the right person to push around and pick on, supported by his twin and another half-brother. Teddy, being the pacifist that he is, and generally trying to avoid confrontation, did his best to stay out of their ways, telling himself that fighting back would only make them fight harder. Teddy was with them when the academy was attacked and Riley’s brothers died. Together they fought and survived. At their next meeting they quietly recognized that the experience had connected them and to let bygones be bygones. They are developing an akward friendship with lots of guilt and grief, that’s mostly consistent of helping each other out and, weirdly enough, unquestionable trust through shared trauma.

S.O.: Zeke... i don’t remember his surname, since Teddy is a RPG character he is obviously another person’s character, i’ll try to think back on more info. As a Hermes son he is the charming wayfarer type person, with a guitar on his back and a taste for freedom, i believe he was a year older than Teddy. The relationship is rocky at best and Teddy feels unloved most of the time but his intense feelings for Zeke make him want to hold on and hope for the better just for a little while longer.

OCCUPATION: Student

CHARACTER: honest | childlike | naive, gullible & foolish | clumsy | ambitious | enthusiastic | family oriented | safety & harmony loving | loyal | nervous & talkative when unsure in social/new situations | sulky & stubborn when unhappy | imaginative | resourceful | huge need for affection & validation | unknowingly competent in dangerous situations | meek | kind | helpful | justice loving | superstitious | clingy | hyperactive | chaotic | defensive | diplomatic | jealous | emotional | caring | empathic | curious | fair | friendly | happy-go-lucky | generous | sociable | lively | manipulative | self-indulgent | open | pushy | romantic | tolerant | impatient, but unpunctual | fear of loss | playful | wavering | brave when it counts | pacifistic

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over plants and weather in the immediate vicinity, too much use of his abilities quickly causes hunger, headaches, nausea & exhaustion | an integral instinct about the beginning and natural end of lives, when he concentrates he can tell a person’s age, or if they are close to the end of their lives in case of a natural death. he chooses not to use this ability | his control of plants is quite trained, changes in the weather are mostly out of his control & follow violent mood swings. They show themselves as changes in temperature in his immediate vicinity

[other] low abilities in sword fighting (he shows little motivation because of his pacifistic nature, but has good instinct when it is necessary), slightly better at archery & hand to hand combat, good at riding & general animal handling

INTERESTS: monsters, he has an affinity for anything monstrous and creepy, in fiction & reality, as a unusual choice for Demeter children he wants to work with monsters in some capacity in the future | animals | plants

APPEARANCE: unkempt wavy to curly blonde hair in various states of darker blonde to bleached to grown out color, darker blue/green eyes, 5′10″, cycles through being slightly underweight & healthier depending on his mental state, his clothing style has no apparent rhyme or reason and consists of anything he likes, mostly color- & youthful, wears a leather necklace with a coin pendant at all times. he chooses to be mostly clean shaven, but has a surprisingly strong beard growth

PLOTPOINTS: born, officially, as the 3rd child of the parker family based in Canterbury, happily growing up in a loving upper to middle class family | only trouble so far is the inability to sit still and concentrate on school classes | with 14 he learns of his true nature and the world of gods & demigods | spirals into thoughts of being an outcast and disruptive in his family, considering his father’s infidelity and his ‘mother’s’ will to live with her husband’s illegitimate child | decides to run away after witnessing a fight between his parents while on vacation in America | gets picked up by Zeke, another runaway child, and as it happens another demigod | after sharing their stories Zeke reunites Wendell with his family against his will, Teddy initially resents him for it | the family reconciles, Wendell’s ‘mother’ confirms how much she sees him as her own son | Teddy starts to visit Gaia Academy during his regular school holidays, where demigods get educated and trained according to their special circumstances eg. myths, monster attacks & magical abilities | his brother begins to write about a fictional character based on Teddy’s life and has success with a series of children’s books | reconciliation & later close friendship with Zeke | big homesickness | a bad first romantic/sexual experience, the adjustment to the world of myths & the stress of constant change between regular school & academy life leads to an overwhelming sense of loss of control, which results in an eating disorder that he learns to control via therapy and his family’s support | dreams of becoming a monster herdsman despite his lack in battle prowess due to his strict pacifistic beliefs | is bullied by 3 Ares sons during most of his time at Gaia | gets in the awkward situation of falling in love with his close friend and self-proclaimed heterosexual Zeke, feels the situation is too hopeless and the friendship too precious to do anything about it | pines for years | drunkenly kisses Zeke after receiving a thoughtful birthday gift (aforementioned necklace) | panics about said kiss after Zeke steers clear of him for the rest of the week | turns out Zeke just had a whole week of gay panic™ and needed some time to come to terms with maybe possibly being in love with a guy despite not usually being attracted to men | Zeke confesses & agrees to a relationship | the thing is messy, with lots of sneaking around and no pda, even in private, allowed as Zeke struggles with a religious upbringing and acceptance of his new identity | as a whole Teddy deals poorly with this behavior but endures for the chance of being with his hopeless yearlong never gonna happen crush | meanwhile the world of the demigods is in chaos with wars between different pro- and anti-god-fractions | when an anti-god-organization attacks the academy, Teddy is forced to fight and kill to survive next to his longtime bullies | he & his loved ones survive but afterwards he is not only traumatized by his own actions and the things he has seen, but also the fact that he of all people survived while better fighters died | while the academy reorganizes itself he spends time at home and struggles with the discrepancy between his vs his family’s experiences and not being able to share what happened with a medical professional to work through his trauma | disillusioned he decides it is time for him to mature, when the academy reopens at a new location he dedicates himself to more battle training and after reconciling with the one surviving bully through their shared experience even asks the ares son for personal training

BONUS INFO: Oh, Teddy boy! He also went through several RPGs and rewrites. The first one was a pretty basic Percy Jackson RPG, with Camp Halfblood and all. In that version Teddy was a child of Hebe, and chose to leave his home in one of the many Springfields in America for the safety of his family, since monster attacks suddenly started happening. On his way to the Camp he met Zeke, they had a little road trip and fought their way to their destination. It was a lovely story of hurt/comfort with Teddy being helplessly lost and scared and Zeke taking care of him. An unlikely team that strangely worked out. The whole runaway thing in his current story might not make a lot of sense, but it was our way of incorporating the original runaway/road trip story that was near and dear to our hearts. I’m not sure why i ended up making him a brit when we switched forums, maybe because i missed British Shawn and had to make up for it. The new RPG obviously had a lot of changes on the Percy Jackson Story, it was just inspired by the idea of demigod children but that was about it. Again, since Zeke is not my character i am hesitant to work with this, also i would like to make the setting more original, though i guess there’s only so much you can do with demigods, maybe creating an entirely new pantheon idk. That’s the problem with RPG characters i suppose, they are rarely uninfluenced from other people’s creations, and often based on preexisting works, but i refuse to give up on him. When i first created him i had Boyd Holbrook in mind. (Which is very fun considering his look in Logan, i imagine later Teddy to look like that and what a big fucking ooc contrast that would be to him rn.) Here is an avatar that captures the Teddy feel during the original road trip very well, bonus the matching Zeke ava (obviously portrayed by Jackson Rathbone), bonus bonus a Rufus ava, ft. Aaron Taylor-Johnson:

NAME/NICKNAME: Avery Sanders / Ace of Spades (a sort of artist’s name), Ace

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 22 years / 15.05.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian? (or whatever, the god thing, plus he does not know his dad)

BASED ON: said Percy Jackson inspired RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / asexual (/ poly/panromantic?? he does not know either or really care honestly it’s all just whatever)

FAMILY: FATHER | Michael Hide | deceased

MOTHER | Nyx | goddess of the night, daughter of chaos

HALFBROTHER/LEGAL GUARDIAN | Dale Sanders | 42 years | ?? occupation: lying bastard weasel?? | Their relationship sure is something. In short Ace IDOLIZES his brother big time, though he would never say those words out loud but it is very fucking clear to everyone. He is like a miniature Dale, or trying to be, or trying to surpass him. This makes the last developments in Ace’s story very very complicated. He’s still kinda brainwashed enough that he’s still holding on to the hope that he’s just not informed enough to understand his brother’s motives.

FRIENDS: Benedict Bovine | 21 years | Son of Morpheus | Ben & Ace were roommates in the academy, and no friends for a long time. The Morpheus son was just too much for him, too happy, too optimistic, too intrusive, too annoying. But that’s probably exactly the personality you have to have to stick with Ace and not give up on actually truly befriending him. Somewhere along the way they ended up being best friends which Ace is secretly desperately clinging to because not too many people bother with trying to get close to him even with him being actively unapproachable. Ben has gained a special status in his life and therefore special treatment, namely experiencing Ace’s more positive characteristics and rare insights behind the mask.

Elisabeth Fendi | 22 years | Daughter of Nike | As a Nike daughter she likes challenges, and befriending or even dating Ace certainly is just that. But she had positive reinforcement by looking at Ben’s & Ace’s relationship and knew the goal was achievable. Long story short Ace lost a bet and had to go out with her, and actually kinda enjoyed her ambitious, competitive nature. She whittled him down to becoming friends at least. They certainly do not treat each other overly tender, but that suits both of their nature’s just fine. Elisabeth just kinda started hanging around Ace & Ben and the three are now sticking together.

S.O.: Well not sure actually, there was one version of the Story where Ace dated a girl named Liz, and Elisabeth certainly has some of her characteristics. But it definitely occurred to me that Ace himself has no desire to actually pursue a romantic or sexual relationship of any kind, but has no problem having sex if it just happens to happen. In another version of the story Ben, Ellie & Ace end up having a threesome under somewhat dramatic circumstances and i’ve been playing with the idea of both Ben & Ellie looking to enter a polyamorous relationship with Ace and him just kinda going along with it cause it’s whatever to him and he loves and trusts them and likes being close to them so it’s not a huge difference to him anyways.. which would just be Ace clumsily trying to show his genuine feelings for once and learning how to express affection, both physically & romantically and probably failing a lot. I think i’m sticking with it but i’m not sure about the circumstances yet.

OCCUPATION: Student

CHARACTER: callous | unimpressed & unfazed | has built up a pretty impenetrable unapproachable wall & layers of alter-egos before anyone can end up actually getting to know HIM | lone wolf | slightly misanthropic traits | paranoid & suspicious | fake superiority complex, talks himself into feeling superior to cover up insecurities | cool | hardy | streetwise | casual, mostly outwards to reaffirm his cool, relaxed persona | stoic pokerface | disrespectful unless respect is earned (mostly through undeniable talent in skills he considers worthy) | rebellious, tactless, provoking | trouble with authority figures | might not show his emotions but has no trouble speaking his mind even in unhelpful ways | critical, towards himself and others, actively looks for flaws | show-off | willing to learn & commit himself to bettering his abilities at all times | proud (of his abilities and his reputation) | long-sighted, analytical & strategic thinking | intuitive | resourceful | has talent to lead but decides not to, does not want responsibility over the actions of others | keeps his word always, to a fault, even when joking | persistent | humorous, ironic & sarcastic | underneath his fake persona actually awfully sincere, it just takes time to get there | pathologically loyal | protective, self-sacrificing & caring towards close friends | despite everything and unbeknownst to himself actually undeniably morally good & heroic

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over shadows | sensing nightmares | Ace is rather trained in hiding in or concealing his movements with shadows, depending on the time of day and the contrast in shadows he can completely hide his presence, the later it gets in the day the easier it is. The control over seeing other people’s fears and nightmares on the other hand is completely out of his hand, it usually happens against his will and leaves him with an aftertaste of said fear that he then carries around for a couple of days.

[other] excellent speed & sword fighting | years of hellish training with his brother have left Ace with an uncanny reaction speed and instinct towards incoming danger, his battle prowess has led to many monster encounters that at this point are neither hard nor surprising.. and honestly kinda fun | musical talent | Ace has lost his heart to electronical music and uses much of his free time to create his own tracks under the pseudonym Ace of Spades. They are mostly rap & electronic mash ups and remixes of popular songs with his personal spin added to them | composure | at any given time Ace has trained himself to stay calm and not show his feelings, so much that at this point he can hardly stop it, which leads to many frustrated people in his life who constantly have to guess what he’s feeling or if he’s even feeling anything at all. It has also made him a practically unbeatable poker player

INTERESTS: music | big city life | close quarter combat | technical gadgets esp. for creating music  | challenges | irony | birds | movies & games & writing reviews | dumb irony, he lives for it, he has picked the elective prophecy class that is meant for the demigod children that actually have some sort of fortune telling ability, just because he thinks it is funny to sit between these actually clairvoyant people as a clearly non-gifted person trying to read something in tea leaves or whatever that has no reason to be true, he goes very long ways for stupid jokes & stories that might end up amusing just himself

APPEARANCE: light blonde hair cut into a buzz cut for convenience, almond shaped light blue/grey eyes, with his 5′8″ a little under average height with a broad build, average weight, his athleticism is countered by bad eating habits and most of his hobbies consisting of siting around for an extended amount of time, almost perpetually wearing a pair of ray-ban sunglasses (he’s light sensitive and likes to hide his eye-movements, but also just thinks it’s cool, as an added bonus it seems to provoke people), his clothing is mostly athletic and casual but he also enjoys throwing people off with unusual pieces, often seen with baseball-caps front or backwards facing, generally not a lot of effort put into his appearance aside from maybe considering what would make the look ironic, also owed to lack of money, lots of his clothes are worn out hand me downs from his brother peppered with the weird shit you can get at thrift stores

PLOTPOINTS: Since his father died while his mother was pregnant she had to improvise and ended up leaving the baby at one of her other son’s doorsteps | Dale, probably rather incompetently, improvised and with lots of peculiar quirks, raises the kid in a tiny, rundown Chicago apartment supporting both of them with occasional part-time jobs | With his knowledge of the world of the gods Dale decides to prepare his half-brother early | Once he learns that that is not normal Ace spends some time worrying about his brothers sanity, regarding the unusual habit of teaching a kid sword fighting and testing his abilities with surprise attacks, but enjoys himself too much to question it (he never thinks about that the constant vigilance and dedicated training might be considered somewhat abusive living conditions for a child - might not have been healthy but it DID make him stronger and that was surely a good thing Dale had in mind, very normal, totally okay.. he is incapable of seeing, or wanting to admit to his brother’s flaws) | They live off fast-food or anything they can get their hands on, with occasional unpaid electricity bills or similar poor conditions, but with a strong sense of solidarity | School was not his favorite thing, he had to get out of his - in his eyes - fun unusual living conditions to sit still and be well behaved and listen to weird stiff adults, and the children made fun of his ragged clothing and general otherness | Spends his free time exploring Chicago, roaming the streets, getting into minor trouble here and there, or with his brother, fighting or watching him make music or play around with electronics, or watching movies, playing games | As is tradition, learns he is a demigod with 14 which honestly does not really come as a huge surprise to him, at least his brother did not turn out to be some weird doomsday nutjob and had a reason for all the sword fighting | Gets kinda excited in hopes of getting along better with other demigods than he did with the other human students.. turns out him being a demigod was not the problem in the first place. Does at least find some like-minded people in his half-siblings. | At home he starts part-time jobs to support his brother, starts making music himself, has several blogs with movie and game reviews, and of course the usual duels between him and Dale, which he never once wins | After graduating regular school with 19 he is not very motivated to continue his training at the academy, but is basically tricked into finishing it anyways, by his brother suggesting he would win this one since he himself has never graduated Gaia. At last, something to be better at than his brother! | When the academy is attacked by an anti-god-organization Ace fights easily and competently.. till he is faced with fighting the one person he has never beaten, his brother. He fights him anyways, conflicted by the feeling of betrayal and sheer disbelief that this could actually be happening. Naturally he loses and ends up skewered through his torso by his brothers sword. When he is unconscious he gets saved and healed by Apollo children, and the fight is over when he wakes up again. He first of all tries to find out if his brother was maybe captured or killed, but finds no trace of him. | When he returns home while the academy reorganizes he finds the apartment empty, half hoping for his brother to come home so he can confront him, his top priority being to learn why his brother has been acting that way because he still refuses to believe that he actually tried to kill him, and rather wants to think that Dale must have had SOME kind of reason that would make all of this okay. | Dale never returns. Ace bitterly sells all of Dale’s belongings to pay for the bills of the apartment that he is suddenly sitting on all by himself, which makes his home very sad and very empty | Ellie and Ben visit him, well aware that Ace’s entire worldview has been shattered and not trusting him not to do something reckless [enter possible threesome here?] | Ace starts to obsessively try to find out about Dales whereabouts and the group he was working with, both Ellie and Ben being annoyed and worried about him doing this on his own refusing any help or interference | Ace manages to find what he believes to be a temporary hideout for the organisation and some documents that he hopes to find further clues in | When the Academy re-opens Ellie & Ben convince him to go back there, with Ace secretly just hoping to hear more about the official measures of the demigod world that have been put in place to find and stop the organization | He shares the found information with what is basically the equivalent of the police in the demigod world, and exclaims to be eager and capable to join any deployment, but is of course refused | Instead he silently plans to take off on his own again, hoping to find his brother for answers or revenge, depending on the outcome

Okay, but here’s the FUN part of the whole story, something that Ace is not even aware of anymore: When he is 18 he finds out about his brothers activity in the anti-god organization (their name is rubicon by the way) and is as always immediately willing to copy his brother and join them, regardless of their shady morals. Thing is, they have a selection process where they have an oracle check potential candidates, turns out the oracle decides that Ace’s heart is just too good and pure in the end to make him an effective member. They alter his memories, fill them with a normal summer of an 18 year old Ace, and send him back home none the wiser that he would have absolutely done the exact same things he found so impossible for his brother to be doing that it ruined his entire conception of the world. Fun. I hope he does not find out.

BONUS INFO: I cannot begin to describe how funny it is to read Ace’s character sheet. Sounds conceited maybe, but every time i reread it, which is maybe once every couple of years, i make myself cry from amusement. It’s so stupid. It is completely written in his voice and it is fucking hysterical, he is such an idiot wow. His vita starts with a rewrite of Will Smith’s Prince of Belair rap, and that’s just the beginning. I wish i could show you but it’s in German so that’s probably useless for most of you. But please know that i really fucking love it and am amazed that i wrote that at some point. I always had trouble figuring out how i want him to look. I believe i used Garrett Hedlund as a faceclaim on the RPG site, but it was not 100% fitting. Dacre Montgomery’s portrayal of Billy in Stranger Things has some Ace vibes, but also not entirely. Imagine their lovechild i guess. I also never planned on him being asexual, the connection to his name was not planned at all, it just hit me a couple of months ago out of nowhere and i immediately knew it was true. Of course he is asexual!! Also i have not yet decided whether his brother is an absolute cold bastard, or if Ace’s instincts about him having reasons are right. Regardless, Dale’s treatment of Ace is not okay from the very beginning. That’s where this whole story started, cause i found it so interesting for the idealized bigger brother that just seems to be cool and fun to actually be somewhat or very much abusive, e.g. Dave & Bro Strider in Homestuck who were very much the stepping stone here. I really liked Bro when i first read it as a baby teen, and then later saw the discourse over him being abusive, and only then did i realize shit you’re right in actual real life that stuff would be ptsd inducing wow, in that very moment i myself was Ace and had my weird idealized image shattered, so i wanted to make a character that could show how easily it is to overlook this stuff sometimes. Also totally just forgot for a while how sad a lot of his character is, ppl did not like him even before he made himself hard to be liked so he’s very distrusting and negative towards people for a long time.😥 Better make up a weird persona for people to dislike at least they’re not disliking my actual self cause they never actually get to see it. WHELP most of my other characters are either fun or tragic depending on the situation, Ace is just both simultaneously at all times

NAME: Asher ? [he is still unfinished since i never used him for anything so don’t mind the questionmarks]

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 21 years / 06.07.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | ? ? | 42 years | multibillionaire business man / sociopath criminal | their relationship can very much be described as a hostage situation, there is nothing pleasant here, his father obsesses over his legacy and the idea of what he wants Asher to be and Asher resents him with a burning passion

MOTHER | ? ? | 41 years | unfortunate trophy wife | there is not much of an actual relationship here, since he started art school they have pretty much not talked a single word, he resents her for being distant and quiet and complicit in his father’s behavior

SISTER | Claire ? | 22 years | various creative part time jobs | the one that luckily got away!! Claire dodged a major bullet and got out of there as soon as she could, living her dream as a independent artist in various fields from writing plays to performance art, Asher adores her & would never tell her about the truth of his situation since she got out of there unscathed, they call each other regularly, but don’t see each other as much as they would like to, she is a big reason for his own interest in art

SISTER | Stella ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella is loud and quick and knows no boundaries, a happy energetic little girl. Asher probably spoils her. 

BROTHER | Leo ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella’s twin brother but the polar opposite. Timid, soft-spoken and kindhearted. Asher probably spoils him too. Asher is also fiercely overprotective in regards to his brother, cause he knows how his father likes to treat his sons. Luckily he also knows that his father would takes his sweet time before revealing his true self, but he dreads the possibility of his father involving his brother earlier nonetheless.

FRIENDS: May ? | 21 years | photography student | awfully loyal, May comes from a rich family herself and can therefore understand or excuse a lot of Asher’s less pleasant traits, she is too stubborn to let him push her away and is glad he has mostly given up towards her, now she just has to get him to treat others the same way. knows he has troubles with his father, but does not know the specifics since Asher would rather take that info to his grave to protect her. is worried, always, since Adam disappeared, but has no other solution but soft encouragement for Asher to move on

S.O.: Devin ? | 20 years | animation student | Half Mexican/Half Afro-American. Anxiety kid, moves to his father’s new family & his sister because they live closer to his future art school, falls in love with the wrong white boy. Big nerd, big introvert, all about anime & games, spends more time on the internet than anywhere else (sound familiar anybody?🙈). Romanticizes the wrong behaviors. Draws, a lot, any given time, super talented, Asher envies him. Big cuddly, kind, somewhat shy and self-conscious, cannot say no or be mean most of the time. Just 100% good soul. Shows Asher the wonderful world of fiction and other entertainment cause that guy apparently grew up in a cave. Asher is 100% hurt and Devin is 100% comfort, Asher feels bad about that. Devin is impressively patient and supportive and the sole reason Asher can breathe again. Sometimes. Asher does not know what he could possibly be bringing to the table but Devin seems content, Asher does not understand why.

OCCUPATION: Student of Photography/Economics Night school

CHARACTER: i feel like Asher needs two separate character descriptions since he’s living in extreme circumstances that have greatly changed his characteristics over the course of a year or two, but i’m sticking with Asher today, just know that he used to be happy, carefree, outgoing, a huge charmer, even a flirt, remnants of some of these more positive traits can still be found if you catch him in the right moment.. and then there’s the things he mostly pretends to be that don’t really belong there either, but i guess that shows how others perceive him

mean | snobbish | intelligent | dedicated | disciplined | hard working | gloomy | moody | prone to breakdowns & panic attacks | snippy | judgmental | cocky | angry | volatile | creative | a good eye for aesthetics | charming if needed | standoffish | pushes people away by being deliberately cruel | generous | righteous | pacifist | caring | puts other’s safety before his own to extreme measures, self-sacrificing | puts others first in general | detail oriented | meticulous | fussy | spoiled | controlled when he has to be | overtly loving & affectionate when possible | excitable | goes to extremes in anything | quick & easy liar | hedonist | tense | intense | stands up for others in threatening or unjust situations | thoughtful | pathologically vigilant, paranoid & distrustful | enduring | ambitious | careful | cynical | unboastful | on a dnd alignment scale i would actually put him on either lawful or chaotic good, he wants to do the morally right thing in all situations | guilt riddled & self-punishing | loyal | devoted | confident

ABILITIES: His father’s irrevocable antiquated notion of how a person of his status has to be educated resulted in a flashflood of tutors from the moment Asher was capable of learning things, involving classical music, several languages, riding, sailing, debating and the more exceptional choices of self-defense through various ways including knife and gun handling, owed to his father’s choice of a rather dangerous lifestyle. The only ability that grew out of his own interests is anything regarding photography. He also has the uncanny ability to switch personas in an instant, he can go from cold asshole to so charming that it puts others at ease, to collected proud superior son in a second, depending on what is needed, these different modes are crucial for his survival.

INTERESTS: Art | Music | Culture | Traveling | Minor Drug-use | a budding interest in manga, anime and video games of all things, thanks to Devin

APPEARANCE: Groomed snobby rich boy that looks down on you. Black hair, pale blue eyes, 6′0″ tall, lean. Judging by his clothes alone obviously wealthy. Mostly somewhat sophisticated with lots of dress shirts and classy cuts. A serious young man! Contrasted by more relaxed clothing choices in his personal space. Mostly black & darker colors. Tattoo of a dead raven on the inside of his right underarm, he hides it in front of his father who hates it. Unquestionably a pretty boy™ but Asher has grown to detest his looks, avoiding mirrors or photographs. He looks too much like his father. Has dimples if he smiles brightly but nobody gets to see them anymore.

PLOTPOINTS: The most entertaining way to start the story is probably through Devin’s POV, and then explaining Asher’s behavior with his life story. Very quickly: Devin, moving to his father to visit the art school in an nearby town, is searching for a new therapist he had been visiting for social anxiety, through a work connection his father organizes an appointment with an prestigious therapist before the schoolyear starts. He gets curious about this well dressed tense looking guy he sometimes meets in the waiting room, and starts to hope to see him more often, but never manages to work up the courage to say anything, till one day the guy storms in mid breakdown to interrupt Devin’s session and demands that the therapist had to see him immediately. Devin uses the opportunity to get his attention for once and earn some bonus points, graciously offering him his session. He even gets a thanks later when they meet at the pharmacy, so he’s happy, and hopelessly crushing on this dude. With help of his sister he figures out that the guy is actually local celebrity, billionaire son Asher, that just happens to visit the very same art school Devin will be visiting soon. So Devin very much looks forward to that and spends lots of time daydreaming about getting together with Asher, who actually kinda seems pleasantly surprised to see him again in the school setting. Asher is distant, but friendly at first, and thanks to Asher’s  friend May who is welcoming and inviting in Asher’s stead, Devin somehow luckily gets roped up into the group that sometimes hangs out with Asher, with him graciously paying for any expenses. Devin manages to overlook Asher’s more unpleasant sides, willfully focusing on the good stuff instead, not wanting to give up on his little fantasy just yet, with Asher warning that he would and should come to hate him eventually. What follows is a wild up and down of Asher either being sweet or an complete asshole and Devin being thoroughly confused yet intrigued, the guy is obviously troubled, often leaving class early in a panic or not showing up at all and generally looking like a nervous mess on some days, which just makes Devin want to get behind the reason for everything. On one of the sweeter nights he manages to get a kiss out of Asher, only for him to show his cruelest behavior yet the following days, either ignoring him completely or reacting aggressively.  [Cue Asher’s Story:]

Born in a cozy coast town to a filthy rich family. | Firstborn son therefore in his old-fashioned madman of a father’s brain his legitimate heir, instead of his two years older daughter (lucky her tho) | Father puts every breath of his being into grooming Asher to be his successor, which includes high pressure, expectations and next to no free time from an early age. No failure allowed. Knowing nothing but this high pressure environment Asher just complies and honestly somewhat enjoys putting maximum effort into things to please his father and his own ego. | Somewhat sheltered upbringing due to wealth & little free-time | Easy time in private elementary school where a lot of pre-existing effort lets him relax a little more. He makes a row of superficial friends, but still spends most of his time studying, only socializing when socially expected. | Still very success-oriented in high school, but learns to relax a little more around newly made friends of less stressful backgrounds. | Gradually without really realizing when it began ends up in a relationship with lower upper class boy Adam, they later discuss and decide they started dating somewhere around age 15. | The relationship is accepted and free-time allowed as long as Asher continues to perform exceptionally well in everything. | Both boys share their love for art, while Asher starts getting interested in photography, Adam focuses on painting, both inspired by and potentially aiming to later visit the prestigious art school in their hometown | The twins are born! Asher is instantly smitten with the little creatures and proceeds to be a loving brother | Asher’s father starts to take him to business meetings and other professional settings as insight into his later life as his father’s successor. | Asher, most likely not unaffected by his wealth & prominence of his family, has some successful exhibitions of his photographs and gains a small amount of recognition in the art world. He decides to pursue the profession full-time in the future, not entirely revealing the decision to his father just yet, who lets him play around with his hobby as long as he brings home achievements in that area as well | goes into prolonged discussions with his father regarding his wish to study photography, who eventually caves under the condition of Asher simultaneously visiting business classes on weekends or in the evening | Both Asher and Adam get admitted to the art school (it needs a fancy name i just dont have one yet) and study there after their graduation from high school | The meetings Asher’s father brings him to start to kinda rub Asher the wrong way, as some criminal elements get revealed, his father’s comment being that it was time for him to learn about these essential things as well. Asher is morally appalled, but has not even begun to realize the extent of his father’s criminal activities, to which he begins to introduce him more and more in the following years. | Asher eventually fully understands that his father is head of a self-built mafia-like organization that seems to reach most of America in some way, and that that is the true succession his father is grooming him for. While Asher might be able to agree with some of these duties, he soon realizes that most of what his father is expecting him to do from now on are things Asher is not willing to do under any circumstances, like brutally punishing people for offenses against the family in varying ways, that Ashers father insists on carrying out personally to further his ruthless reputation and control over his underlings, partners or rivals. | For the first time in his life he fails to meet his father’s expectations and actively goes against orders which results in his father pressuring him in any way he can. When Adam suddenly disappears without a trace when Asher is 18 he immediately has the uneasy feeling that his father was involved, he did not however anticipate his father actually truly murdering his son’s boyfriend to set an example of what happens when Asher disobeys. | Asher has a complete breakdown, spends some time at a mental health facility, and comes to the decision to tell everything to the police, only to have them call his father and have him pick him up. Further tries to tell any authority about what happened end in similar ways, his father seemingly having control over everything or always being one step ahead. Eventually he threatens Asher that if he continues, he would have him convicted of Adam’s murder, having plenty of psychiatrists to falsely attest to his guilt. Asher refrains from trying to out his father, half because he was scared of the consequences, half because if he truly would go to prison - which at this point did not eve sound bad to him - his father would most likely just shift his attention to his younger brother instead, which ends up as the main intervention to Asher being able to escape the situation in any way. | From now on Asher spends his time terrified and traumatized, trying his best to please his father in ways that do not include physically harming other people. At the same time he starts violently pushing every friend or acquaintance away, to make sure his father would not find another person to use as motivator and punishment. May being the only remnant of his former friend group that refuses to leave his side despite him lashing out against her here and there in hopes for her to finally get it and leave him alone. | A year later there’s this black guy about his age that apparently has the same therapist and ends up in the same class at school and is genuinely nice to him without asking for something in return which hasn’t happened in a while and feels so nice he forgets himself and gets carried away, being nice right back, and unfortunately can’t help himself having lapses in his self-control towards this guy over and over again, cause he’s just so kind and warm and welcoming, and it feels so so nice, but instantly regretting it as Devin gets clingier and bolder, but still not being able to stop entirely, till he stupidly kisses him one night and immediately has nightmares of his father murdering Devin, which allows him to draw the line and finally be as repulsive towards the guy as he should have been from the beginning. I have various potential scenarios in mind for the following  but they mostly go like this: Devin, trying to figure out why Asher is like THAT, learns about his long-time boyfriend disappearing last year and never being found, with the police claiming there were signs of him just running away to a bigger city, but Asher and Adam’s family believing that something must have happened to him. He deduces that Asher has developed a massive fear of abandonment (which in a way is true but way understated) which is why he keeps pushing him away when he gets too close. When he confronts Asher he just gets furious at the mention of Adam and eventually gets so worked up that he starts talking about Devin not understanding ANYTHING and that he has no idea in what kind of situation he could end up in when he sticks too close and that he should just fuck off, but Devin naturally just picks up on the weird shit and Asher sounding increasingly scared, so he keeps poking at the topic till Asher finally breaks down and tells him that his father is basically a sociopathic criminal mass-murderer and being Asher’s friend let alone boyfriend paints a big fucking target, and then he just ends up having to explain the entire situation in hope that Devin learns and just stays quiet but most of all stays the fuck away. Long story short: he doesn’t. He vows not to leave Asher alone with this any longer, and now that he knows that Asher actually likes him there’s no way he would stay away anyways. Asher still very much tries to convince the other one to leave him be, but to no avail. The rest is them finding an arrangement that works out with lots of secrecy and sneaking around and pretending to not even know each other (more or less successful), Asher panicking a lot, and dealing with a shitton of guilt, but kinda learning to live again and not just function miserably, and them trying to find a solution to Asher’s problem that does not involve people potentially dying, and Asher just dreading the next time his father calls him in and what he might expect him to do then. I have more plot points planned out but i’m just gonna keep them for myself for now. 😋

BONUS INFO: First i gotta say Asher is very much a character i created to cope with stuff when i was feeling really fucking low last fall. I made a character that’s hanging on by a thread, because i was, so i could at least use these feelings for more lifelike daydreams and give them more of a purpose and direction. The initial idea that sparked the storyline was a person falling in love with a clearly unwise choice, which ended up being Devin crushing on the dude having a mental breakdown at the therapist’s office (genius boy). Somewhere along the line the main character shifted to Asher because of the aforementioned reasons. Devin’s POV is probably really more entertaining though, since he gets to unfold all the mysteries that Asher is keeping from him. Inspirations? Uhm, i guess Life is Strange (a mixture of Nathan & the Prof, and the art school setting), the general John Wick world and Veronica’s family in Riverdale, god also laurel’s family in htgawm

[thegreenfairy13]

Dog Sitter Part 6 - A Safe Place

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here.

The sedan stops not far from the Penguin’s residence. The moment a young man emerges from the car, the mobster is certain something is wrong. At first glance, he can’t exactly pinpoint why he’s so unsettled, yet he is.

The man is in his early thirties, white. He’s got short brown hair. His haircut is elegant, tasteful, as is his gray, tight-fitting suit. Maybe it’s the car itself, the mobster muses. It’s a car for an elderly gentleman. It seems to be too big, too pompous for him.

Also, there’s something off about his clothes. Given, they are of immaculate quality, but they seem to be wearing him. A man in such a suit should be brimming with self-confidence, yet it seems he’s wearing a disguise. He doesn’t look like a wealthy, successful businessman but rather like a high-school graduate applying for his first job.

When first sporting a tailored suit, Oswald was still lacking the arrogance that is implicitly necessary when showing off such an exclusive piece of garment. Men growing up surrounded by wealth wear such clothing as if it was their birthright and armor - and in a sense it is. But when coming from poverty, one has to shed his insecurities and grow into the suit and shoes you are now able to afford - literally. And there was a time even the Penguin used to be intimidated by luxury.

The man on the street lights a cigarette. His eyes flicker up and down the road as if he was looking for something particular. He’s definitely nervous and the Penguin already considers getting his shotgun when a young woman walks up to him and kisses him passionately. She then pulls a slightly disgusted face and swats the hand holding the cigarette before pulling him into her house.

Oswald should probably be relieved, yet he isn’t. This car, this suit, the jittery demeanor… Of course, the man could have only been nervous because of his date but men driving such cars don’t get nervous because of a pretty woman, do they?

Bringing the cigar back to his lips, he takes a pull. Rolling it between his fingers, his thoughts wander to Edward and his pathetic love for him. How devoted he had been back then! For Edward, he would have given up his empire willingly, would have moved to India if demanded, or crossed the Himalayas hobbling on one leg. Around Edward, he had always been unable to see what was right in front of him. This insincere promise of friendship, of having a true connection, had made him blind to the cunning, devious nature of the other man.

Where the Penguin knows boundaries, the Riddler doesn’t. Edward had taken everything Oswald had achieved or loved at the time and smashed it to pieces. Each secret they had ever shared had been exploited to cause the maximum amount of pain. He had thrown him from his throne and humiliated him in public. And if that hadn’t been enough, he had taken Oswald’s faith, his belief in ghosts and belittled him for it. He didn’t stop there, though. Even then, Oswald had begged the other man to love him. Just a bit. How desperate he had been, how weak.

And then he had ripped out his heart as if it was worth nothing and stomped on it. His revenge had been complete, perfect - a masterpiece, truly. Oswald almost admired Ed for it.

Once he had thought Edward would be the other part of his soul. Now he realizes Ed doesn’t have one. Figures.

He would have never gone that far - not when it comes to the ones he deems worthy of his affection. And maybe not even when it comes to the ones he doesn’t deem worthy. This complete and utter destruction of his soul had been cruel in ways beyond imagination. Sure, he still wants revenge for his mother’s death but he doesn’t wish to destroy every piece of Tabitha’s being. Even if she’s the only person who probably deserves that amount of pain.

In front of Edward, he had been reduced to a shadow of his true self. Had that been love or dependency? If that had been love, should he not now more than ever feel the urge to leave Gotham?

Oswald scoffs. He’s really one to wonder how a wealthy, young man can be reduced to a jittery mess in front of a beautiful woman. Not when he’s being ruled by his heart time and time again. Not if Edward’s promise of love brought him to his knees.

And he hasn’t learned a thing. In front of Jim Gordon, he’s not acting a tad bit better. His desire to befriend with the cop had been his downfall before. And maybe their new arrangement will lead to great losses on his part again.

At least Jim had always been sincere in his disdain for him. Jim had promised to take him down, didn’t he? And, boy oh boy, did he deliver on his promise! But did Oswald ever listen? No. Like a moth is drawn to the inevitably deadly light, he is drawn to Jim Gordon - the last honest man in Gotham.

For some, life is a romantic comedy. For Oswald, it’s rather a Shakespearian tragedy and that’s ultimately another part of what defines him, of what he is. Or maybe it’s karma. He is aware of having his wealth gained by horrible deeds. And maybe the universe demands a price to be paid for all this power. Well, if that’s the case, he’s paying dearly.

Straightening out his shoulders, he puts out his cigar and retreats to bed. Tomorrow evening, Martin will be brought back to the relative safety of his school. And on Monday, he’ll try to find out everything about this stranger driving the sedan. Should he mean the tiniest threat to his child, he’ll be dealt with accordingly.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Knowing a possible danger could be lurking close by, renders the mobster unable to do anything besides tossing and turning restlessly between his sheets.

He’s grateful for the rain the other day that forces him and Martin to stay inside. With a bowl of cereals in their hands, they marathon through old Disney movies and a crappy series on ghost stories for kids.

At one point, his little one decides his dad reminds him of a vampire and Oswald ends up chasing a laughing, squealing kid around the dining table, teeth bared and growling menacingly. Hands extended, he snatches up his boy.

“I’ll suck your last droplet of blood!” he roars, spinning Martin around gleefully, for once not caring about his aching leg.

Having learned from the best when it comes to playing dirty, the kid twists in his grasp and starts tickling his father’s sensitive tummy.

“Mercy!” the Penguin wheezes when his son doubles his efforts. Like a true Cobblepot, he only gives up when his dad vows to surrender to the decidedly greatest vampire-hunter of all time.

This day doesn’t last either. Martin’s nanny arrives way too soon to take him back to his school and prepare him for the following day. Parting is never easy and it doesn’t get easier even if they both know the drill. As always, Oswald considers simply taking his son with him. There’s an entire army at his disposal so Martin should be safe, shouldn’t he? Even if knowing the boy would never be safe as long as his father rules the underworld.

The Penguin still does the sensible thing and gets into his car before his little prince’s pleading eyes can change his mind. It’s torture, turning his back onto what’s most precious to him each and every week, knowing Martin’s absence will leave a gaping hole in his chest the moment the engine roars to life.

He should just take everything. The crown and his heir and stop worrying. It’s a preposterous thought of course. Whatever he loved had been burnt to ashes before and if he’d ever lost Martin...Well, he would never recover from that loss. If anything ever happened to his child, he’d go to Arkham willingly and stay there for the rest of his life.

Not daring to look into the rear mirror again, he speeds away, back to Gotham, to his dog Ed, Jim Gordon, his enemies and allies and this other part of his soul, to this city that defines him and is embedded into his DNA.

He gets stuck in horrendous traffic. Which isn’t only an ordeal because of his physical condition. Putting on the brakes and accelerating, again and again, is straining for his bad leg. By the time he reaches Gotham’s city limit, he’s already sweating profusely and holding on by sheer determination. On top of his pain, he’ll have to deal with the permanent curmudgeonly Captain, too. Jim won’t be pleased when the Penguin arrives late. He can already hear the man’s displeased snarl.

On days like this, it’s difficult to deal with Jim’s temper. When Oswald doesn’t want to do anything else except for wrapping himself up in his sadness as if it was a comforting blanket and wallow in self-pity, the Captain would never hesitate to force him to be the Penguin. Jim never cared for Oswald’s pain. Except for one night maybe. The night he indulged him and allowed him his revenge on Galavan. Besides that, Jim expects him to be someone who soldiers through his pain and shoves it aside.

Maybe he admires the cop for that trait too. Jim never pitied him. He underestimated him, he loathed him, but he never pitied him. Despite his feeble appearance, the Captain never mistook him for weak or ever regarded him as pathetic.

He might not respect him, that’s definitely the wrong term, but to some extent, Jim values him and that’s at least something. In a time, when his life wasn’t worth more than the one of a cockroach, Jim regarded him worth saving. And even after all these years, Oswald is fairly certain he would never end his life.

So not only is Jim the last honest man in Gotham, but he’s also the only man he feels safe being around. There’s literally no one else he trusts enough in this wicked city not to snuff his lights out if given half a chance except for this cop.

So yes, he’s looking forward to seeing Jim and dreading it all the same. He’s too exhausted for their games tonight, too tired, and in decidedly too much pain. Oswald simply wants his dog back, crawl into bed and send his kid a message he arrived back home.

Of course, it’s not that easy. Jim greets him with his usual, pissy expression. The man is already done up for his next shift. Holding up Ed’s already packed bag, he growls at the mobster coming through his door. It’s an almost hilarious contrast to the excitedly barking pet.

“Next time, you can fetch Ed at the precinct.”

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the gangster limps closer and yanks the bag from Jim’s hands. “Thank you, kind Captain,” he drawls, false cheerfulness dripping off his tongue. “I am sorry to inform you I got stuck in a traffic jam.”

“Could have texted,” Jim grumbles while following Oswald to his car. When the cop hands the dog over without making much of a fuss, he almost hopes Jim might let him go quickly.

He doesn’t.

Before Oswald has a chance to vanish in his car, Jim halts him in his tracks. “I have something for Ed,” he announces and the mobster almost groans.

His affection for the dog might be sweet, but honestly, enough is enough. And the favor Jim will one day for sure demand for taking such good care of his furry baby, already strikes fear into Oswald’s heart.

For a second he considers pulling Ed into his vehicle and speeding away as if the hounds of hell were after him. Unfortunately, he’ll need his dog sitter next week again.

Jim reemerges from his flat with a very big box. No, not a box. He’s actually holding a rectangular cage in his hands. Yet cage isn’t the right word either. The thing Jim is dragging up the stairs looks like a cell at Arkham Asylum. It’s a little cell, made of carbon, complete with a padded floor.

The Captain is holding up his latest purchase proudly. Opening the car door, he places the cage on the rear bench seat and fixes it with the seatbelt.

The mobster cringes. “What is this abomination?” he demands to know, appalled, and Jim’s face falls. The whole man tenses up before turning towards the mobster.

“I thought it was rather obvious,” he replies, drawing his eyebrows together and moving closer. And honestly, Jim shouldn’t be that handsome, clad in his usual black attire and wearing his shabby, worn-out shoes, and shooting Oswald a stern glare that makes him feel like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie-jar.

There’s a natural authority to Jim, an undeniable power disguised by a veneer of false mediocrity. And sometimes, especially when he’s looking at Oswald as if he was a naughty kid, the mobster simply wants to beg the cop to bend him over the next table and show him his strength in a more favorable way.

“It’s a transport-box,” Jim elaborates, oblivious to the gangster getting carried away by his impure thoughts. “Ed is safe in there in case of an accident. He’s able to look out while enjoying the snug feeling of a cave. I noticed you didn’t have one,” he finishes haughtily.

Snapping out of his haze, Oswald blurts out, “it looks like a prison cell. I’m not going to put my Ed into that hideous cage!”

Not intimidated in the slightest, Jim steps closer. Backing the gangster up against his car, he insists, “I made it to Gotham bay with Ed in this box without him vomiting once. We practiced driving, Ed and I. We made good progress. The box stays,” he decides and all of a sudden, the fight leaves Oswald’s body.

He’s too tired for that and too confused. On the one hand, he hates how that darn thing looks, on the other hand, it looks terribly expensive and Jim meant well. Did he really say they made it to the bay without Ed feeling sick once?

Oswald leans back against the car, exhausted. He’s got no idea how he’ll make it home with the throbbing in his leg, and he for sure won’t make it if Jim drags him into this ridiculous fight. He should probably just thank him and leave. Or sit down on the hood and rest for a minute.

“Okay,” he simply replies. Drawing a deep breath, he allows for his leg to dangle in mid-air.

Closing his eyes, he waits for the pain to cease. Ed shuffles closer, nudges him with his tiny, black nose and the mobster wishes he wouldn’t be so weak. And then he wishes he could be weak for once without consequences.

“Another cramp?” Jim asks, in his cordial, warm way.

Oswald mutely shakes his head. “This stop-and-go-traffic took its toll on me,” he admits reluctantly. “I just need a moment.”

He doesn’t expect Jim to invite him to his flat or to wait with him until his driver arrives. Actually, he only expects the cop to leave him standing on the street and go to work. Instead, Jim tilts his head thoughtfully before barking out his command.

“Keys!”

The gangster’s head snaps up in confusion. His bafflement must be written on his face, cause Jim actually cares to explain.

“I’m gonna drive you. Gimme the keys,” he grumbles, holding out his hand expectantly.

Oswald’s first impulse is to retort with an imprudent remark yet he stops himself in time. Instead of pointing out how Jim all of a sudden degraded himself to one of his lackeys, he hands over the keys and gets in the car while the cop places Ed into his cage.

Closing his eyes, he waits for the engine to start. “Thanks for trying to get Ed accustomed to driving,” he says softly when noticing his pet doesn’t start shaking the moment the car begins to move.

Jim mumbles something unintelligible in response. Shooting Oswald a sideways glance, the cop grips the steering wheel tightly. He’s probably content to drive them both to the Van Dahl manor in utter silence, the mobster muses while taking the opportunity to admire Jim’s profile.

It’s no use denying: he’s beautiful with his strong jaw-line, those well-defined cheekbones, his prominent nose, and those sideburns accentuating his face. When focused on the road, the ever-present frown between his eyebrows ceases and after a while, he starts to relax slightly.

“Well, I can’t be your dog sitter for the next twenty years or something,” Jim thinks out loud, a hint of sadness to his voice.

Oswald snorts. “Dog’s don’t even live that long. Don’t worry, Detective.”

“Well, this one will,” Jim protests vehemently and the Penguin doesn’t have it in him to protest. “Besides,” he adds in a softer voice, “your kid might want to play with him once in a while.”

The Penguin stiffens beside him. Slowly, the dread washes over him, setting his heart racing. His silver-tongue is paralyzed, unwilling to cooperate for a moment. He tries to utter out words. Maybe he tries saying “how” or “why” but ends up making only a desperate sound.

“If it’s any consolidation, I don’t think anyone besides me suspects anything,” Jim adds hastily when noticing the other man’s distress.

“How?” Oswald sputters, at last, gripping the handle of his cane tightly because frankly, he needs something to hold onto.

The Captain of the GCPD rolls his eyes and focuses back on driving. Jim never takes his eyes off the road for more than a few seconds, sticks almost religiously to the speed-limit and hardly ever overtakes other cars. It almost seems as if Jim is slightly scared of driving when not chasing a criminal. Well, the gangster he loves to chase the most is sitting beside him, so maybe he’s simply uneasy.

“You only ever leave Gotham at the weekend and during school vacation. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out whom you’re visiting,” the cop deduces then, pleased with his train of thought.

“I could simply be having an affair,” Oswald protests defiantly, and Jim snorts.

“What? Do you think I’m incapable of having a relationship,” the mobster argues, angry that the cop might think so. How is it for anyone unthinkable someone might love the Penguin?

“No, I don’t think that,” Jim relents. “But who has only time on the weekend? A kid. And you leave Gotham each weekend precisely at the same time, like a clockwork. Never thought I’d say that, but maybe you should consider some unpredictability,” he finishes, expression unreadable.

“Martin’s dead,” he insists, stomach twisting when saying those words out loud, even if they are merely a lie to protect his son.

Jim shakes his head. “We both know he’s alive and well.” Eyes trained firmly on the road he keeps driving as if that task was anything that exists in the world.

Once again, silence stretches between the two of them, the tension is thick enough to cut it with a knife. When Jim speaks again, he’s barely audible. Yet in the limited space of the car, he still startles the mobster. “I saw you once with the kid. Heard how far you went to protect him when Pyg attacked…”

His voice trails off as they are riding down the freeway. “You seemed to love him very much.” The Captain shifts the gear, accelerating slightly. “I think he’s lucky to have you as his father,” he whispers, not once looking at the Penguin while he speaks.

Oswald’s chest constricts. He would have never deemed it possible Jim would tolerate or even accept his decision to adopt an orphan. Not when he always regarded him as some kind of bloodthirsty demon. And now he even considers him being a good father. He wants to press further, ask what brought on this change of mind. He doesn’t.

Instead, he turns around. Ed is sitting in his little cage quietly, not drooling nervously all over the seats for once. Jim had been right with the ugly thing. It becomes again painfully clear how much love the cop must have to offer. Buried beneath the surface of this grim, hardened man, there’s a gentle, kind soul. Oswald is sorry Gotham took this side away from him. He sees it, though. Always saw it.

“Thank you for taking care of Ed,” he says quietly in response. “Jim?” he continues hesitantly and the cop nods in acknowledgment. “I’m sorry. About what I said at the precinct,” he clarifies, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

“Don’t be,” Jim cuts him off sharply. “You were absolutely right then.”

Not knowing how to reply, he stares out of the window, taking in the pitch black heaven. He’s sitting beside the last good, honest man in Gotham. He doesn’t fear for his life here. This car, right here, right now, is the safest place he’s ever been, with Jim Gordon’s steady presence right beside him.

Oswald falls asleep to sound of the car engine’s soft rushing.

[fallen029]

Are You Sure?

The rain outside wasn't what woke Lisanna as the pitter-patter was far too soft, but rather the gasping snores that the man she lied in bed with had. Not that there was anything wrong with him. No. This was just how he slept. Flailed out on the bed, tongue dangling to the side, he had the most violent of snores that one would think that he got no sleep at all.

But rather, the man was the most restful fellow in the guildhall, it seemed.

He was still a fright to behold in the dim lighting provided solely by the streetlamp outside his apartment window. It bled through the blinds and landed squarely on the face of the Fairy Tail's resident seith, highlighting not only his unruly haircut, but also the massive face tattoo that he sported. A freaky fellow even in slumber.

Bickslow would have liked that sentiment a lot, Lisanna was sure, if she expressed it to him. Instead, she only laid there in the bed that was littered with the quiescent wooden bodies of the man's babies who she wasn't too sure if they truly slept, or rather were in some sort of state of being shut off from the world.

The thought of that latter saddened her, but the idea of the former kind of struck her as eerie, sleeping even in death, so she mostly just tried not to think of it.

Actually, as she rested there, all she could think about was her sister.

"Are you sure?" she'd asked a good number of times throughout the course of the pair's relationship.

The whole thing had sparked between the pair only about six months previously. Lisanna had been ditched by her siblings after they all three made plans to spend time together (Elfman was drug off by Evergreen and Mirajane was called into work since the hall was getting slammed) and felt kind of down by it. Her intentions to get over this, however, were simply to go to the guildhall and have some fun with the other degenerates that rarely found their way into jobs.

It was before she made it through the entrance though that she ran into Bickslow.

He was very busy in some of the open area just beyond the Fairy Tail gates, getting chewed out by Evergreen and Freed about something. As he was turning to storm off though, apparently deciding for himself that he was finished with the Thunder Legion argument, he ran smack into Lisanna. It was enough of a shock to her that it threw her off balance a bit, but thanks to her catlike reflexes and uncanny ability to adapt to any and all situations (ha ha), she only stumbled slightly, but managed not to face plant.

A win in her book.

"Great job, Bickslow," Evergreen remarked as the seith, equally as slick on his feet it seemed, managed to not only not fall, but also, the second Lisanna found her own footing, cause her to actually fall as he tried to assist the person that needed no assisting and somehow managed to shove her down.

Cats only have, like, nine lives, after all.

From down on the ground, Lisanna figured that she'd far exceeded that amount.

"Why don't you just shut up then, Ever?" Bickslow complained as he shoved up himself, babies floating about in concern. "This has nothing to do with you."

Freed, now coming over to actually help the youngest Strauss sibling, only shook his head as he said, "Lisanna, please forgive Bickslow, he's merely-"

"A fuck up," Ever finished as she didn't move a muscle to help. Only hid her devious grin behind her fan as, predictably, that assertion got the rise she'd wanted out of her counterpart. "He's merely a fuck up."

"I am not!" And, before Freed could reach down, he moved to literally drag Lisanna to her feet. "See? I helped, didn't I?"

"Marginally," Evergreen retorted. "Per usual."

"You know what-"

"Are you alright?" Freed, however, was over their inward troubles. "Lisanna?"

She was a bit surprised, honestly, to have just been trampled and then, after finding her footing, thrown to the ground only to be manhandled back up, but other than that, sure.

"Confused," she remarked to the green haired man with a bit of a bemused smile. "But-"

"Lisanna, you don't blame me for running into you, do ya?" Bickslow was asking then, tongue falling from his mouth more out of anger this time as opposed to any sort of joy. Or maybe just second nature. That one seemed likely as well. "I didn't do it on purpose. And look! I helped you up."

"After," Evergreen added because she was just going to be that way that day, it seemed, "knocking her down in the first place."

"Lisanna doesn't care about that!" the seith insisted before, glancing at the woman, he asked, "Do you?"

In some idiotic way, fate was actually offering Lisanna up in that moment. Had she said anything else, regardless of the affirmative or negative, things would have just gone on like normal. She could have escaped the awkward rift that was bothering the Thunder Legion at the moment and just be on her merry way.

But this wasn't the case because she had a problem with seeing other people fight, especially people that she thought of as such great friends. And there was no stronger bonded team, in her mind, than the Thunder Legion. They shared more than just a love and veneration of Laxus. They truly seemed to cherish and enjoy the company of one another.

Still, she knew how at times, no matter how close you were to someone, every little thing they did could irk you. She lived with her two older siblings. She knew that love didn't always find itself being the opposite of hate. They could both coexist in a singular person rather comfortably.

That didn't mean that it didn't dishearten her a bit, to see them fight. It was so odd. Even as children they never truly seemed to find a distaste for one another. Just for those around them. They were best when they were together (though how this best factored into the sensibilities of others was up for debate…)

And if there was anything about Strausses that was without a doubt true, it was that they could not stand to watch what they perceived as an injustice, it had to be fixed.

And they way that they were picking on poor Bickslow just screamed injustice.

Well, sort of.

Lisanna, personally, had never been on the side of things that other women in the hall were with the man. He was known to be a bit...odd. And creepy. Yeah, she was pretty sure Lucy had used that word, actually when describing his actions. Even Mriajane, who could more or less get along with everyone, felt a bit off put by the man at times.

Rather fortunate or unfortunate, however, Lisanna had never gotten this vibe or experience from the man.

This was mainly rooted in her absence from the guild around the same time that he wasn't hanging around too often. He wasn't too much younger than her, but their ages never meshed well for them to interact much. When Bickslow was busy tormenting others, it was typically the kids more in his age range as he no doubt saw the likes of Lisanna or Natsu as too childish for his tastes. As they grew, he, Freed, and Evergreen found time wasteful if spent around the hall and missed out on a lot of the things the other children went through. Then, of course, there was that terrible two year period in which she was just gone.

She was back then, though, of course, but that meant little, honestly, in the grand scheme of things. Her place in the hall still felt a bit hollow in some ways and completely out of place in others. Not to mention, though Mirajane insisted it was just her getting down on herself, Lisanna was very aware that she was far from the most attractive woman in the guild. Far. She figured he probably bothered the others more for that reason than anything else.

It did, however, keep her from having such a sour taste in her mouth as she spoke up in his defense.

"It was just an accident," she told Evergreen and Freed with a nod of her head. "And you shouldn't call him that. A fuck up. He-"

"That's right!" Finally. Bickslow was tired of only having five disembodied voices to there to take up his cause. Freed and Evergreen though they were so smart and so wise and so much better than him and Laxus seemed think so as well and so what if he was going a bit crazy, it seemed, as he spent more and more time talking to the souls of his poor babies and less with other people, but if he was insane it was probably their fault because they'd been banding together against him recently and since when was that anyways? He liked teaming up against Ever with Freed far more. "I'm not, am I, Lisanna?"

"W-Well, I said they shouldn't call you it, but-"

"If someone like Lisanna can see that I'm definitely not a fuck up," the seith went on, "then how can you guys not?"

"Because she's completely wrong?" Evergreen asked as her fan fell a bit and she let the completely devoid of emotion face of hers show. "And doesn't know you in any capacity to make that sort of statement anyways?"

"What do you mean?" Lisanna hardly heard what the woman of stone said though and, instead, made a face at Bickslow. "Someone like me?"

He was busy glaring at his female counterpart then, but did break that just to glance at Lisanna and, with a shrug, said, "You know. Good. Clean. Normal."

Bickslow had just said a lot in a very short amount of time that caused Lisanna some pause. Clean was used in an odd way, but she could infer what meant given the other three. Good was a statement levied at her more straight and narrow path in the guild while it was normal that caused her the most problems. The assertion that anything in Lisanna's life was at all normal was shocking, if not downright misinformed.

Honestly, she was a bit offended by it.

Not that they took the time to care about it. While Lisanna was very interested in helping other guild mates, though they might not outwardly hate the others anymore, the Thunder Legion could still be pretty snobbish and self-centered in many ways.

Which is why they didn't notice her discontent or, for the most part, even that she stuck around listening to them.

They only went on for a bit longer, anyways. Freed took note of the time and exclaimed that he had somewhere important to be and, without him as an audience, gave Bickslow a parting shot and that was that.

Until Bickslow turned to storm off as well and ran smack into Lisanna once more.

That time they were both able to stay upright and the man only made a bit of a face as his babies floated about, questioning Lisanna about why she was being such a creeper.

The irony.

"Oi, Lisanna, didn't see you there….where you've been….this whole time?" Bickslow, who was known for his own tricks and scheme, was obviously suspicious of anyone else hanging about in the same ways he had a tendency of doing. "Were you spying on official Thunder Legion business? Huh?"

"Yeah," his babies cried as they circled her. "Huh?"

"No," she said slowly with a frown as, once more, she was forced to straighten her outfit a bit. With a bit of a frown, she said, "I actually had something that I wanted to say to you. And it's kind of hard, you know, to accuse someone of spying when you guys are out here, in the middle of the guild grounds, arguing loudly-"

"Oh. I'm such a klutz." And he shook his visored head down at his feet. "You're all mad that ran into you, huh?"

"Mad's a harsh word. And anyways, not exactly-"

"I'll make it up to you," the seith decided then and his babies, as the notion, cheered for some reason. Lifting his head, she couldn't meet his eyes given they were shaded behind his visor, but she did stare in that direction. "I know. Let's say you and I get out of here, huh?"

"W-What?"

"Pretty chick like you," he said with a wide grin and some finger wagging, "why, I could make things up to you real quick, I bet."

It was only once she felt a deep sense of dread fall over her that it occurred to Lisanna that this was it. This was what all the other girls in the hall were always talking about.

Finally, she was getting perved on by Bickslow.

She wasn't nearly as thrilled as it may sound.

Actually, she was truly freaked out by it and felt that icky sense of dread the others always talked about.

Lisanna wanted to end that conversation at the soonest available interval.

But…

It was something nagging in the back of her mind. She definitely was not enjoying the attention that Bickslow was giving her, but what he'd said before, in front of the others, kept her from just fleeing into the hall and the safety of others.

Because Lisanna wasn't normal.

She wasn't clean.

She might be good, she might not. Who knew?

No one. Because they never spent the time to truly get to know her enough to find out. Other than, like, her actual friends. Natsu and Happy. And Lucy too. The others though? They mostly just saw her as Mirajane's little sister or the sister that poor Elfman killed or the one that came back from the dead.

She was the extra Strauss, no doubt about it.

Whether or not these beliefs were true, whether or not people truly thought of her that way, was irrelevant in that moment as, for whatever reason, Lisanna felt as if they did. And it lead her to believe, for some asinine reason, that she needed to prove to Bickslow that this wasn't true.

Although, honestly, when examined, this wasn't too crazy of a jump.

Lisanna didn't want people to think she led such a normal boring life and, of all the people in the guildhall that were the polar opposite of normal, Bickslow had to be high upon the list. If she could convince him that she was neither good, clean, or normal, then clearly, that would prove it.

Definite evidence.

No chance of offering any other proof.

Which is why she swallowed down all of her natural instincts to run for the hills after Bickslow's little statement and instead boldly told him, "Yes. Let's."

That threw the seith off, of course, as he'd been prepped for her to call him a name and flee. Having any other sort of answer to that question stumped him, for a moment. And even then, once he realized what had been said, he was still stumped as he had no idea where to go from there.

Never, in the history of him saying such outlandish things to women, had he ever been taken up on his offers.

It could actually be argued that it was his desire for no one to. That he said such rude and terrible thing to people in order for them to be disgusted and revolted. He didn't want women to actually respond positively to what he said. Where would be the fun in that?

Well, apparently, he was going to have to find one because Lisanna fucking Strauss had just called his bluff and, on that shit day that he was having at the moment, Bickslow was gonna make her pay for it.

"You really wanna get out of here with me?" he asked as his babies stopped cheering and instead just hauntingly hanging about. "You sure?"

In her deluded sense and need to be recognized as something other than normal ol' clean Lisanna?

"I'm sure."

Bickslow, at first, considered taking her somewhere to get a drink or the bazaar, and freaking her out somehow in one of those places. But no, as they walked along and he naturally headed towards a certain section of town, he knew exactly where he was going to take her. The one place that she'd be freaked out to go without him even doing much work at all.

They both stood there for a few moments, outside of the rundown apartment building, neither too sure what was to come next.

Eventually, Lisanna only glanced to her side and asked, "So are we going up or what?"

Or what was, without a doubt, not an option.

Bickslow was so fucking mad at himself. Why wasn't it working? What was he doing wrong? Why wasn't she fleeing in fear from the terrible werido that Bickslow was?

Was the woman daft?

No, seriously, was she? He'd feel a bit bad for picking on her if she was.

As they keyed into his dirty filthy apartment, he decided that if she wasn't, she was surely suicidal. Something. Was that it? She wanted him to hurt her? Or did she just believe that there was no way that he ever would?

Did the idiot honestly think that he was interested in showing her a good time?

Or oh, grosser, a 'good' time?

The questions were all too much for the seith, it seemed, as he immediately went over to his coffee table and, falling to his knees on the floor before it, began his typical just home from a stressful day of being stupid Freed and Evergreen's jokes routine, and immediately began to roll a smoke.

As Lisanna, perfect stupid little Lisanna, stood above him, now completely out of her element and, if the facial expression she was making told him anything, he only gave her a dark look back and asked a simple question.

"You smoke?"

The answer was no of course and he only took to muttering to himself at it before getting up, the rolled paper stuck in his mouth, and began to look for his movie lacrima.

Whatever the fuck she was doing there, he didn't care anymore. He needed something to calm himself the fuck down and stat.

It was so surreal, honestly, as Bickslow set up his movie lacrima and, still ignoring her, went to turn off the light he'd flicked on as they came in and pulled the blinds tight. Then he fell onto the floor once more and, turning the thing on, they were welcomed to the sound of fanciful, old time music as the imagines showed a classical comedy from the silent era playing. Lisanna wanted to ask if he honestly found enjoyments out of these sorts of things. Or were the old ones all he could afford?

Taking a glance around the place, she figured the answer could go either way.

"Ain't you ever gonna sit down?" Bickslow, it seemed, was growing more annoyed by the moment. "Or are you just gonna stand there being rude?"

She didn't want to sit on the floor.

'

She didn't want to be there.

But she'd made it that far and…

And Lisanna was more than just good, clean, and normal.

She wasn't so certain she was sitting on a floor in the middle of the day, smoking and watching old movies, but that didn't make her boring.

Or normal.

Gosh, she hated the word normal.

When applied to her situation, at least.

It honestly felt out of place in Fairy Tail in general though.

When she sat beside him, Bickslow didn't seem to lose any more tension at all. But he didn't snap at her again and, for what felt like forever, they just sat there silently, watching the old movie playing.

Lisanna found little humor in it.

Bickslow knew the actions step by step.

But still, they watched.

It was only once that film ended that the movie lacrima shut down and they were in true darkness then. As they sat there and Lisanna wondered what was next, if she should just get up and leave, Bickslow spoke.

"Lisanna, what the fuck are you doing here?"

It was a loaded question, to say the least. And as she struggled to figure out how to tell him, Bickslow went on past it.

"Don't you get it?" he asked with a frown down at her. "I'm a freak, Lisanna. A creep. I asked you something shocking and disgusting and you stupidly went along with it. I can control what other people do. I posses their souls. I could strip down naked right now and you couldn't even fight me back. Is that not concerning to you? In the slightest? Why would you go somewhere with me? A fuck up? A complete fuck up? And talking to inanimate objects because my real friends think that I drink too much and smoke too much and you're not a kid anymore, Bickslow, so stop acting so immature. Pay your rent on time. Do you even go on jobs on your own anymore? Don't you care anymore, Bickslow? Do you care about anything? Huh? Do you? Lisanna? Do you care about anything? Or do you just think about yourself? Why, you're no better than when Elfman punched you, huh? Still doing risky, stupid shit for stupid reason. You haven't grown at all. No one ever grows at all. We just stay exactly the same as we've always been. We're such fuck ups. We're all such fuck ups."

The silence felt heavy then and Bickslow's dolls had long since settled down, falling to random places around the tiny living room. It eerie and Lisanna felt wrong, that day, being there.

She'd clearly just seen something she shouldn't have.

Something struck her though, deep inside, as he finished what he'd said. Not just the stupid comment he made as a throw away, wild punch about her past, hoping to no doubt get some venom out of her. It didn't. It all just made her really sad to hear.

"I came," she began softly as she raised her eyes to look into the shadow where his hid behind a mask, "because I know that you won't do anything to me, Bickslow. You're not going to control me or try to possess my soul. You'd never do that."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're not a fuck up." She smiled a bit, at that, before shrugging a bit. "And no one thinks you are. Except you. And the second you stop doing that, the second Evergreen will leave you alone about it."

As she got to her feet, Lisanna decided then that it wasn't her own desire to prove herself to him that had caused her to go so out of her way to do so, but rather the original reason that she stuck around the Thunder Legion and their dumb strife in the first place.

Lisanna was a Strauss.

Perhaps the least mentioned.

Perhaps the least loved.

But she was still a Strauss.

And when they saw a friend in need, they helped. All guild members were friends and the problems they faced were never something to take lightly,.

Even when they were creepy freaks that seemed to get off on turning others off.

She still didn't want to be clean or good or normal, but just in providing the amount of support to the man she hardly knew, honestly, proved she at least wasn't one of those.

And the others weren't so bad.

If Bickslow was deeming you then, there was a good chance you weren't really either; probably just seeming so to him.

He was a freaky creep, after all.

But he was still a freaky creep with feelings. And what Lisanna had just said to him made feel a little better.

It was why, once she was at the door, he called out to her.

"Hey, Lisanna?"

She paused some, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Just...I should be more careful. With where I'm going. Running into other people's not too cool."

"No," she agreed with a soft smile. "It's kind not."

When she arrived back at the guildhall and told Mirajane all about what had taken place, she was peppered with all sorts of questions as well as fed a few cautionary tales, but mostly, her sister was just pleased in that moment that she'd helped the seith out.

"And you're sure?" Mirajane asked with a bright smile. "That you really got to him?"

"I think so."

"That's so great," Mira complimented. "It's not everyday you get a chance to brighten someone's day up like that."

It's not everyday that you ran into someone like Bickslow, so yes, Lisanna definitely agreed with that sentiment.

She didn't see Bickslow again for another week. When she did though, up at the hall, filling in shifts for her sister, the man keyed in on her immediately and left behind his friends just to come over and grin at her.

"When someone's right," he said loudly as she only blinked at him in confusion from behind the bar, "they're right!"

"Uh….what?"

"I told Evergreen flat out that I was a fuck up."

"That's not-"

"Now she doesn't even say it to me! Just shakes her head and sighs. You ever realize that you're the true visionary of the Strauss siblings, Lisanna?"

That was enough to get her goat, it seemed, as Lisanna forgot all about informing him that he'd done the exact opposite of what she'd told him and instead focused on his compliment.

"Well," she said slowly, as if thinking deeply on the subject, "not really, but I could definitely see how you might think that-"

"You know, I was thinking."

"-considering I did help you and Mira wouldn't have done that well, I don't think, and definitely not Elf, so I guess I am-"

"Me and you should get a drink or something sometime. Share our souls. We have a connection."

"-the true visionary of the Str- What did you say?"

"Me and you, kid," he said, gesturing from him to her. "I felt something."

"Uh-"

"We had a connection, yeah? No one else has ever done that for me before. Called my bluff. Sat around and watch movies with me. Had a smoke."

"Been a real friend to you, you mean?"

"You say friend, I say undoubtedly a stalker."

"I didn't stalk you there."

"Felt that way."

"Well, okay, then why are you asking me to hang out again?"

"As an expert stalker myself-"

"What?"

"-game respects game." He even nodded his head. Then, reaching up to push his visor up some, he looked her dead in the eyes for the first time in her life and asked her, "So what do you say, kid? You wanna go on a date with me?"

The resounding five voices that sang out, "What do you say? What do you say? Go out on a date?" were as haunting as they were unconvincing.

Lisanna had never been asked out before.

And she hoped to never be asked out again if that's how people went about it.

She was in such shock and stuck, almost, with an inability to comprehend what the man had just said to her, causing her to respond in the only way she knew how to a request.

"Yes."

"Alright." Letting his visor fall, the sieth snickered a bit before saying, "I'll be back by later tonight, huh? "

Then he and his eerie dolls were gone and Lisanna wasn't too sure what had just happened, but it felt far less than normal or clean or good or anything of the sort.

"You're sure?" Mirajane asked when her sister informed her of this later that day. "Lisanna? Bickslow? He asked you out?"

"Yep," the younger sister said with a nod of her head as Lucy, who'd been sitting around upon hearing this from Lisanna, just waiting for the seith to show back up because she too was in such shook, snickered a bit at the face her best friend made in return.

Mirajane, clearly, was full of disbelief.

"I heard him," Cana assured Mirajane from further down the bar where, glancing up from her mug, she shook her head a bit down at them. "The little freak got all giddy about something she'd done for him and came to ask her out."

"And to think I missed it," Happy complained from where he was in Lucy's lap, still pouting over this fact. "I'll never forgive myself. Once in a lifetime and I miss it."

They were all there though, now the ones being far more creepy, when Bickslow showed back up for her. Lisanna met him at the guildhall door, grabbing his arm and running him right back out of it, as to avoid anything her sister or friends might have to say to the man. She still wasn't so sure that it was what she wanted, a date with him, but she knew that she definitely didn't want a big scene made about it.

"So?" she asked once they were outside the property gates and had set off. "Where are we going?"

"Where else would we go, Lisanna?" he questioned right back and, unfortunately, she found that he meant they'd go the only place they'd ever been alone together.

His apartment.

They watched a different movie that time, though it was still a silent era comedy, and he didn't offer her a smoke, though he did light himself right up, but something felt different that time. For some reason, Lisanna felt less at ease while Bickslow seemed more at it. He laughed loudly at the scenes he knew by heart and even had popped some popcorn, just for the occasion.

After the movie ended though and he moved to put another in, Lisanna had to used the break to her advantage.

"Is this a date?" she asked him with a frown. "It...feels like we're just hanging out."

He paused at that, glancing over at her from where he was rifling through a box filled with movie lacrima films. "Did you want to do something else?"

"W-Well-"

"Great!" He produced a a film then and held it high. "This one next."

It was bizarre. The whole thing was bizarre. Lisanna was beginning to wonder if she was just dreaming the whole thing. She wasn't sure. Of anything.

Maybe she should have told Mirajane that and let her older sister sort the whole thing out…

After awkwardly sitting there through the second movie, Lisanna was rewarded with not having to sit through a third. Instead, as they sat there in the darkness for a few moments, Bickslow seemed to think a bit before speaking.

"So, uh, we done here? Or did you wanna-"

"I think this was a good first...whatever this way." And she was quick to get to her feet, as to not miss her chance. "Bickslow. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."

But he was already busy rolling another smoke and it was actually his babies that called out goodbyes to her and, well, that was definitely an experience.

The others were all waiting back at the guild for an update.

"So?" Mirajane asked first as, upon sitting up at the bar, Lisanna was surrounded by the interested parties. "How did it go?"

"I...I think it went okay."

"You think?" her sister huffed a bit. "Are you not sure?"

Nope.

Definitely not.

"He didn't try to get fresh with you, did he?" Happy asked from where he was now standing on the bar, munching on some fish. He paused that though. Just for her. "Lisanna?"

"What," Lucy asked with a bit of a smile at the feline, "would that entail?"

"Well, I don't know. Whatever getting fresh means, I guess, Lucy."

"What would you do if he had?"

"Are you on Bickslow's side or something? Why are you questioning me? When you should be questioning him?"

"We just sat around and watched movies on his lacrima," Lisanna told them all then as, frowning even more heavily, Mirajane found a new line of questioning.

"His movie lacrima?" she asked. "You went to his apartment?"

"Uh-huh."

"On the first date?"

"Uh-huh."

"And then just sat around and watched a movie? You didn't do anything else? At all?"

"Well, we watched two movie, but-"

"And you're sure that he asked you to go out on a date? And not to just, I don't know, be friends or something?" her sister asked with a raised eyebrow. "Lisanna?"

"I mean, that's what he said."

To that, her sister merely sighed and got back to work, a bit disappointing in the entire thing. She'd worked up a whole date in her mind that the type of guy Bickslow would take her poor, innocent sister on and that was not at all close to how she imagined it to go.

Mira felt cheated.

Lisanna, however, was ready to put the whole thing behind her. Their date had only lasted a few hours and, with Lucy and Happy already around, she knew Natsu would be too and that meant they could all go out and do something together. Something to replace whatever….that was that had happened back at Bickslow's apartment.

Her inward conflict arose once more, however, about a month later he arrived back from of a job and upon coming into the hall, she was the first person that he talked to.

She wasn't working that day, but was sitting around with Levy instead, getting some help with a complex magical spell in a book when he came to just stand over them, silently. His eyes were on Lisanna though and, after glancing between the two, Levy excused herself to the safety of where Gajeel was very busy complaining to Mirajane about the lack of scrap metal there was to find around the guildhall in those days while she informed him none of that had been scrap at all and he was accumulating a rather large bill for damages and Master wanted her to put a stop to it.

Over with Bickslow and Lisanna though, there was a lot less words and much more silence.

"Lisanna," one of his dolls sang as they all floated about idly. "Date Papa?"

Bickslow though stayed silent for a good few more seconds before saying, "Did you wanna come over then, Lisanna? Tonight?"

"Uh-"

"Great." He even gave her a thumbs up in the affirmative. It was almost comical. But most things about the seith were almost comical. Just fell short of the mark. "I have to do some things with Freed and Evergreen for about an hour, but I'll come back for you. Or we could just meet at my place. If you wanted."

"I..."

Lisanna thought she should tell him no. That whatever they were doing wasn't fun for her or interesting and she wasn't even quite sure it was dating, either. And if it was then, hey, it had been nice, but she really wasn't missing out on much and would like to just go back to her life of not having to deal with that sorta stuff.

But…

It wasn't like Lisanna felt an obligation to him. And she certainly knew how to use her words. The man wasn't pressuring her. She could just flat out tell him no. It was possible.

And yet….

"Okay." She even nodded at him. "An hour?"

And his grin didn't seem a devious as it typically did. "An hour."

Happy, however, did not find he liked this idea much.

"He's probably scoping you out," he complained as Lisanna went to relay all of this to Lucy and, by proxy, the nearby Natsu and Happy. "To murder you."

"Happy, what?" Lucy asked with a frown over at him while Natsu only got excited over the whole thing and laughed a bit.

"Want me to fight him, Lisanna?" the slayer asked, holding up a flaming fist that narrowly missed hitting a passing Mirajane. "I'll take him right out!"

"Are you guys talking about Bickslow?" the barmaid asked as she came to a stop. She was a bit frazzled after her disagreement with Gajeel (he claimed all metal was scrap metal if you think about it and really thrown her for a loop; she'd have to get back to Master on that one…). "Did he- Oh, Lisanna, you didn't-"

"I don't wanna be lectured about it."

"He's probably going to kill her," Happy said with a shake of her head. "Or at least try. You can take him though, Lisanna. Lucy did once and, well, he can't be that tough then, can he?"

"Excuse me, cat?"

"Lucy, I'm saving her life."

"If you're so worried," Mira told the Exceed with a bit of a frown, "you might as well go. You might as well all go. It's not a real date anyways."

"Mira-"

"It's not, Lisanna."

After being explained to that, no, he could not fight Bickslow, Natsu got less thrilled about going and Lucy never had any intent of it, but Happy was all gung-ho about going. He had to protect Lisanna, after all. By which he meant, when the going got tough, he was going to fly her straight out of there.

Bickslow didn't seem displeased with his intrusion either.

"Ah, you brought your cat to play with my babies," he said with a nod as he let them in. "Smart thinking, Lisanna."

At that point, Lisanna was questioning if she was smart at all. And if so, why was it that she couldn't figure out exactly what was going on?

Happy too was questioning just about everything.

Until Bickslow gave him his own bowl of popcorn and wow! Lisanna could definitely date him. What a thoughtful guy.

And, when that two movie quota was met, Bickslow gave them a slight wave while his babies cried out their goodbyes.

"That was great, Lisanna," Happy told her as she walked him back home to he and Natsu's little rundown house. "You should definitely date Bickslow as much as possible! He has my blessing."

For some reason, that did little to do away with any of her misgivings.

"Thanks," she sighed regardless, "Happy."

It was the third time that he approached her, this time only a few days later, that Lisanna found some of her own footing.

"I don't want to watch what you want to watch," she told him which made him frown a bit. "I should be able to bring my own movie and we should watch that."

She couldn't see his eyes from their shaded position behind his mask, but she was sure that they turned to a glare for a few moments before, with a shrug, the seith agreed.

"Lisanna, why are you doing this?" Mirajane asked her that time quite pointedly. "Are you even enjoying yourself? Are you sure? Because-"

"You date who you date and I'll date who I date."

It was in that specific date though that they found a new standard as, though Bickslow wasn't a fan of the noir Lisanna brought, he did suffer in relative silence, much as she did with his films. Then, when they were both finished with, they went there separate ways again and Lisanna was beginning to wonder if the was ever going to try and kiss her or something because that felt like a big part of dating, but she was too fearful to ask Mirajane what it meant that he wasn't doing such a thing because then she'd only get teased once more by her sister and oh, she was catching it, wasn't she? Osmosis from just being around one another? Now she rambled just like the seith.

It was that next time though, a week or so later, when Bickslow got them takeout instead of just popcorn and, over it, they sort of had a conversation. He made her laugh, at least, once. But other than that, it was pretty standard for them.

One day the hall though, it wasn't the seith that approached her from the Thunder Legion. Rather, it was the other two.

Freed stood over where she sat alone, going over the guild finances that Mirajane asked her to check, while Evergreen pressed two palms down on the table she was at and leaned down to stare the other woman in the eyes from the other side of her glasses.

The tension was felt immediately.

"Look, girlie," the other woman said in that dripping, terrifying tone that she had, "I don't know what you think that you're doing with Bickslow, but you better knock it off."

"W-What?"

"Lisanna," Freed said from where he stood with his crossed arms. His tone was much softer and his approach wasn't nearly as intimidating. "If this some sort of...game, we do not appreciate it. Bickslow truly believes that the pair of you are…friendly with one another."

"We are."

"Lisanna-"

"Freed, I'm not lying."

"You better not be." That came from Evergreen who, after one last glare, shoved up to stand straight once more. "Because if you hurt him, you'll be real sorry."

Lisanna had no idea what to do after this occurred. No one else seemed to see it and going to Mirajane about it would just mean that Elfman would find out and he and Evergreen had something weird going on, but something going on all the same, and she didn't want to make him upset that the woman had just threatened her, and Natsu was out because he'd just pick a fight with them over it and, oh, wow, Bickslow wanted another date that night.

Great.

It was during a down period where he was picking his movie from the box of them that, in the darkness, Lisanna spoke.

"Your friends came and spoke to me today."

"Friends?"

"Evergreen and Freed."

That got the seith to pause some before he went back to his digging. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What'd they say?"

"They think I'm...being mean to you or something, by going out with you. That it's just all some big ruse."

"Is it?"

"I don't… You're the one who always asks me out, Bickslow."

"Yeah," he agreed as, glancing over at her, he said, "But you always say yes."

"That's true."

"If you didn't want to do this, you could just say no."

"I know."

"I'm not...mind controlling you, if that's what you think."

"I don't think anything." And that was true. "About this. I'm just telling you that they think that I am."

"They're dicks."

"They care about you."

He didn't answer to that one, but, pulling a specific film out, he flipped the cartridge in his hands a few times, thinking. Softly, he said, "Why do you keep saying yes, Lisanna?"

"What?"

"The first time, you called my bluff. What are you doing now?"

His babies didn't even repeat him that time. Just remained silent as she was presented with the conundrum at hand.

And Lisanna had waited so long for some to flat out ask her that, to not just try and dismiss her like Mirajane had been, that she more or less gushed out everything that she'd been holding about the whole situation.

"I don't know," she admitted softly into the darkness. "I guess...the first time that you asked, I was just doing that. Calling your bluff. And I didn't… They were being so rude to you, Ever and Freed were. And I didn't want you to think that you were actually that. A fuck up. That's not… And then when you came to me in the hall, I kind of… I don't know what I'm doing, Bickslow. I don't understand why you keep asking me out. I don't understand why we're doing this. I've never...dated a guy before. I don't even think that's what we're doing. I-"

"Why not?"

"Huh?"

"Why," he repeated, "is what we're doing not dating?"

"I dunno. We're not going out and enjoying ourselves or getting to know one another or-"

"I'm getting to know you."

"How? If we're just sitting in the darkness for a few hours every week?"

"I know that you don't smoke. I know you don't really like these movies that I make you watch, but you do it anyways. I know that you like your popcorn with lots of salt and I know that you like detective flicks. I know that your cat thinks of you as his mother or something and was scoping me out. And I know I passed. I know what you want from the place we get takeout. I know that you're nice enough to oblige me these past few weeks. I know that...that you have to like me a bit, don't you? Kid? Why else are you here?"

It caught her then, by surprise. The fear that she had inside that she knew exactly why she was there. The same reason she was there in the beginning. Because she felt the need to fix whatever it was that was going on in Bickslow's life and it was so fucking wrong, wasn't it? She'd led on, hadn't she? What terrible thing to do. And why? For own need to nose her way into things?

But as she considered that, she knew that couldn't be true because, though it did have some grounding in the fact that she'd convinced herself she'd gone over to fix him. To let him know that he wasn't so fuck up that Ever and Freed could knock around. Then he came back to the hall and was still calling himself that and there was a chance that she'd only been doing this for so long to see the original mission through.

But…

It was complex. Life was complex, but even when you took the small parts of it and examined them, sometimes they never rightly felt whole on their either. The pieces make the puzzle, but the puzzle fit another puzzle because it was also a piece and you only ever figured out what what you were truly doing when you examined the thing as a whole. Not a part.

And, at first, she'd been able to justify her reasoning for following him that day as a way of proving her worth as something more that good, clean, normal Lisanna, but when that fell through she found another reason to claim that she was there. That it was just to fix him. And, when once more, that didn't work because she continued to find herself around him, she decided that while she didn't know why she was there, certainly there was a reason. And here he was, offering her up a chance to claim that it was still only an attempt to make him realize that he had worth and he had value, but that pretending to have feelings someone offered none of that.

She wasn't there for that.

Was she?

Something in her chest, something her heart, told her that it was deeper than that. That she couldn't just scratch the surface with this one and find her answers. Most of her life had just been face value. But this…

She could equate it to uncertainty or a desire to help others, but overall…

"They're probably fucking right, aren't they?" Bickslow speaking again because she'd taken too long to answer, it seemed and, tossing the movie back in the bin, he hung his head some. "Freed and Ever? You're not here because you like, are you? Or doing this? Fuck. Fuck. They didn't put you up to it, did they? To have someone here with me? Huh? Is that what this is? They think I'm losing, but I'm not losing it. Me and my babies, the reason that we like to spend so much time alone together is just because they get me. Freed and Evergreen just don't anymore. They don't want to come around anymore. Sometimes I want to sit in the dark and just to talk or be around someone that gets me. What's wrong with that? Huh?"

That time, he'd asked a question she could answer and, from her mouth came the best one there was.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Bickslow."

"Shut up. Just shut up and go. Just-"

"I stay here, I come over here, because I… I can't explain it," she admitted. "I don't get this butterfly feeling in my stomach from being around you."

"Lisanna, just leave."

"I don't think about you all day, I don't think about what it would be like to hold your hand or to go places with you, but when we are together, when we're here, in your apartment, I just...I feel better about a lot of things. Or at least I don't think about them. I don't think about the guildhall or what I'm doing there or if I'm talented enough to be there. I don't worry about how many jobs I take or get scared of what it means if I'm not."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that...I like being here," she told him then slowly as, even though his visor covered his eyes and the room was so dark, she felt as if she was staring right into them. "I like being with you. And there's nothing wrong with just wanting to sit in the darkness with another person and say everything or say nothing. And there's definitely wrong with doing it with your babies. They're people too."

His head fell once more and he staring into the box, but softly, eventually, he said, "Thank you. Lisanna."

"I worry sometimes too, you know?" she asked him as, slowly, she pushed up a bit and scooted over to where he was. "That I'm...different. Now. That something's wrong with me. Since I got back Edolas, I… I think about how different things would have been if I'd never gone away and I know that it's much better I didn't. Elf and sis changed so much for the better and Natsu and Happy and… But was it good that I came back too? I came back a different person as much as they've changed into different people, but how do you mesh things that previously fit so well back together when they've been morphed by separate events? I wonder sometimes if I even belong at Fairy Tail any longer, or if I'm just here habit. And if I am…if am...then what does that mean? Why can no one ever tell me what it means?"

Bickslow had raised his head once more and he was taller than her, as they were both on their knees, but softly he spoke right to her as he said, "You belong, Lisanna, where you wanna belong. That's why no one else can tell you an answer. Because it's your decision and your life."

As she let a breath and nodded, she whispered, "Thank you. Bickslow."

Lisanna never...kissed a guy before, not like, but when she reached up to push his visor away, it all felt so natural and real and had ever been in love before? Could she be then? Or was her inexperience just playing a trick on her?

They found there way, eventually, to their feet and he was leading her to one of the doors and she'd never seen the rest of his apartment before, but over the slight buzz that she was getting then, she did hear him ask softly, "Are you sure?"

For once, she knew the exact answer.

But when they were in his bed and she wasn't so sure, it fine because that wasn't where they were going or what they were doing it seemed as he only turned his head eventually rested it over hers and told her softly, "You belong."

Catching her breath and still a bit thrown by all that had gone on, she only breathed back, "So do you."

When she got home that night, Mirajane worried about her and had sat up waiting, but Lisanna only followed her older sister back to her bedroom where, as they fell into the bed, she didn't tell her everything, but she told her a lot. And most it didn't have to do with her night that she'd spent with the seith, but rather all the thoughts that she'd kept in for so long since returning.

And if it was all worth anything, it was certainly worth that.

Things changed little with Bickslow and Lisanna though as they fell into a just as easy rhythm as they had going before. They didn't always make out and she didn't stay over, but they did always watch two movies together when he invited her over and, once, she even invited him over to her house to do so with her siblings. Even though Elfman was a freak about it and Mirajane wasn't much better, it did give Lisanna a wonderful feeling in the pit of her stomach as she came to the same realization as she did that night as Bickslow's snoring woke up her and the rain was just soft enough to lull her back to sleep.

She wasn't sure of everything in her life, no one was, but being around him, hanging out with Bickslow, there was nothing of which she felt more certain.

This...grew, obviously, from what my original intentions were. I wanted to write some Bixanna all by itself and wasn't sure what I wanted from it and, somehow, I ended up with this. I'm not displeased. The normal course their relationship in my stories is typically built on Lisanna's insecurities and fears over life being leveled by Bickslow's cavalier approach to it. She finds safety in the fact that, though he's older than her, he still hasn't figured all his shit out yet either, but he's happy and finding his own path, so she's able to as well, only to find as time goes on that he has just as much baggage as her; he just hides it better. This, however, focuses the openness of Bickslow to his inadequacies and certain fears that he has that his friend are unable to guide him through. I don't think I've ever done one where he's so docile and reserved towards Lisanna, but I think that was the point of this. He need something and she has it (reassurance), while he has something and she needs it (understanding), and they both kind of meet in the middle.

I'm actually more proud of this than most my work with the two of them.

Anyways, I'm working on the next part of About Life and I'm trying to get back into Accidents and Incidents and Closure, there's just a lot there to reread and think about where I'm headed with the two, so just sit tight. Updates will come eventually.

[wannawrite]

Type Of Boyfriend: Yoo Seonho

who?: Cube Ent / Pd101S2’s Yoo Seonho genre: 🌸 type: bullet point blog navigator. • how Yoo Seonho would be your boyfriend • with added Christmas spirit ahhh thank you for requesting @isaluciavevo this, it’s so long overdue I’m sorry Seonho is so freaking cute my heart can’t take this - Admin L 

• hmm Yoo Seonho • 1/2 of my Cube chicks • y’all know this boy is wild • in the cutest way possible • Seonho goes to the same high school as you do, Cube International Academy • and he’s the vice-captain of the basketball team • captain - Lai Guanlin • Seonho is generally a bright and cheery person who doesn’t have trouble making friends • or keeping them • he practically knows the whole school • THAT Sophomore who is always hanging out with Seniors and Juniors • it’s also kind of pressing how a Sophomore is already the basketball captain • how shady • but that’s because Seonho enrolled into Cube because of his basketball skills • he was scouted when he was in middle school • and look where he is now • playing for one of the best high schools • talent • simply pure talent • can’t relate • but anyway • you’re new to Cube • you transferred over from C9 Academy • bye bye Jinyoung • and your transfer time was at a very odd time of the term • they decided to shove you in right when the last term started • which is around September and exams start in October • It isn’t the first time you’ve transferred schools but you didn’t exactly expect the principal to take ‘as soon as possible’ seriously • it was like they tossed you into the Lion’s Den with no prior warning • who gives prior warnings anyway.... • bad analogy but moving on • Cube is kind of intimidating no lie • there’s good looking and popular people everywhere • you feel out of place :( • luckily, Eunbin, the girl who is assigned to take care of you, is very sweet and introduces you to her friends too • even Wooseok, who sits next to her in class, welcomes you with open arms • you end up spending a lot of your first week with them • one day, you’re walking towards the cafeteria with Eunbin and Wooseok when a loud voice yells from behind • ‘HYUNG!’ ‘NOONA!’ • awkwardly, you stand to one side as a boy embraces his friends • it’s that weird thing when you’re with your friends • and they bump into their other clique • like • ‘uh hi idk if she’s been two-timing us’ • ‘who is the actual best friend.’ • ‘does she spend more time with me or you’ • except you can’t compare because you’ve only known people for two weeks • ahah • rip • take an L • sadly • ‘oh! Seonho, this is Y/N, they just transferred over from C9.’ Eunbin introduce, grinning from ear to ear • you smile shyly and wave • socialising 101 • Seonho brushes his fringe out of his eyes, beams brightly and waves back • HEART MELTED • his eyes just sparkle with happiness and they aren’t hidden by his huge spectacles • they’re too prominent • TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BE HIDDEN • ‘hey! Seonho, let’s go!’ A group of guys holding basketballs and dressed in their sports uniform shout • Seonho nods • ‘okay! I’ll see you around then guys. Welcome to Cube!’ • he skips away to join his friends • you’re left with your mind in a mess • honestly, he’s one of the cuter guys in your grade • actually, correction • the cutest guy you’ve ever seen • there’s no doubt about his physical handsomeness • not one • he’s good-looking, well-proportioned, has a sensible haircut • hair makes a HUGE difference • ‘oh!’ Eunbin clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. ‘you think he’s cute don’t you?’ • ‘n-no...’ • Wooseok ruffles your hair. ‘of course you do! you do! who can’t find him adorable?’ • ‘well, in THAT way but-‘ • ‘so you agree? you think he’s really cute?’ he teases more • You open and close your mouth several times, looking like a goldfish • ‘shut up.’ • Wooseok and Eunbin burst into laughter, playfully poking at you • you just wanted to eat lunch in peace, now look what happened :( • and they’re serving pizza today! • in the queue, Wooseok suddenly says, ‘how many times do you think Seonho or Guanlin queued up for pizza?’ • puzzled, you speak up. ‘aren’t we only entitled to one serving?’ • Wooseok just chuckles. ‘idk what goes on at C9 but this is Cube. no one will really pay attention if you take more than one plate, trust me, and I wouldn’t worry about Guan or Seonho, they’re pretty much Cube royalty’ • and that’s how you figured how popular and significant Seonho was • extremely • the next day, you found a sweet post-it stuck onto your locker • ‘y/n, hope you have a great day! talk to me if anything!’ • and there was also a bar of candy taped onto your door • your heart fluttered • madly, actually • you felt so special, like you owned the world • then, the boy next to you opened his locker and out came a similar looking note and a bar of chocolate • ‘awww! Seonho, he’s the sweetest.’ • o h • the boy collected his books and left with a bright smile on his face, ripping open the chocolate candy bar and tucking the post-it into his wallet • oh wow • your face flushed red and you crushed the post-it and shoved it to the very bottom of your backpack • you wish you could stuff your feelings back to wherever they came from • it was embarrassing to feel so special and close to someone you had barely made eye contact with • Seonho was just that guy who liked to present his friends with acts of his love and kindness • while he was incredibly popular, he was still humble and true to himself • cute • so so SO cute • NO SWEETIE YOU CAN’T FALL FOR HIM LIKE JUST THAT • N O • love at first sight :”) • you kind of dread today knowing that Seonho doesn’t share any classes with you   • sigh • in science, Wooseok suddenly turns to you and asks, ‘hey, do you mind helping me return some books to the school library today? I would but Mr Kim called me up for math remedial and then I have basketball practice right after...’ • being the nice and kind friend you are, you agree to help him • ‘ah shit,’ he curses, realising he left the books in his locker. ‘can...you drop by the gymnasium later, I’ll pass them to you.’ • shrugging, you reply, ‘yeah sure, I need to talk to some of my club seniors anyway,’ • ‘thanks! you’re the best!’ • you don’t think anything of it until lunch, after consulting your squad - who screams • ‘why?’ • ‘wOOsEOk asKED yOu tO waTCH hIS PRActIce!’ • ‘....no I’m just getting stuff from him aiya what the heck...’ • ‘no way, Wooseok isn’t like this. Did Eunbin not introduce Seonho to you yesterday?’ • ‘iT MUST BE SEONHO.’ • and that’s how everyone started shipping you two • pls be rational, logical friends • you realise slyWooseok isn’t one of those people when you arrive at the gym • and he dumps a whole pile of books in your arms • you know your arms are bound to break • and the library is on the 4th floor, not in the same block • ‘WOO-‘ • ‘THANK YOU’ he yells, running back to join his team • even though they’re getting a 10 minute break • sighing, you sluggishly stumble out of the gym • ‘here,’ • YOO SEONHO STRIKES • ‘let me help you.’ • AsDFGHJKL • he won’t take your refusals and talks to you along the way • in the end, he smiles at you before bidding you goodbye • AND A NEW CONTACT IN YOUR PHONE • that’s how it started • you found yourself texting Seonho a lot • like • a lot • he was super sweet person to talk to • and often used cute emojis to talk • then if he got mad about something, he would leave you on ‘read’ until 10 minutes later • I’m gonna try and do that ^ • it was such a casual thing when you guys started dating • literally • but your heart was pounding, even hours after he had asked you out • it was right after your final paper • btw, Seonho stayed and studied with you until the library closed when you were cramming • and he also helped you with notes and whatnot • Eunbin and Wooseok even made a bet to see how long it would take for you two to start dating • the cutest tbh • and once he asked you • you said • YES • and then you got to know a lot more people in your grade, older and younger students • how cool • Seonho always gave you his basketball team jacket to wear at games • he was so shy the first time he asked you • it was right after his practice and you were waiting for him near the school gate • he came out of the locker room, trembling hands holding onto his jacket • subtly • ‘h-hey b-babe,’ he stammers • listen • this boy RARELY stutters, he always can find a good excuse or make up something on the spot • you know he’s serious about something • ‘can...c-can you w-wear my jacket to my game this Saturday? if...i-if y-you’re planning to g-go of course!’ he adds quickly, while a blush fills his face • there was no way you were going to pass up the opportunity • and that’s when your relationship was announced to the general public • but who was shocked? • everyone saw it coming • you guys are too cute as a couple to go unnoticed • Seonho is a lowkey sucker for PDA • like the boy will make his relationship KNOWN • it’s the little things that matters • a small peck on the cheek • the way your hand fits in his • sometimes you really want to kiss his forehead but this boy is like a 6’0 giraffe and unless you’re at least 5’11.5 that’s a bit of a struggle • rip me I’m 5’4.5 • I think • he just giggles and bends down so you can kiss him comfortably • or you’re 6’5 and height has never really been a problem • oh, I envy • he will hug you out of nowhere • back hugs • side hugs • front hugs • hugs you and spins you around • collapses into your arms hugs • yes, expect clinginess and extensive skinship • but you love it • you guys don’t argue much unless it’s something roughly related to life or death • you can see the fury in Seonho’s eyes but he just locks himself in a room for a good hour to get the rationality back • maybe that’s the secrets to a good relationship • he doesn’t hold back on the ‘L word’ either • you first said it a good year into the relationship • he said it in a good month • it was the weekend right after his team won a major championship and you took him out for pizza • he said I love you after you promised to pay for the pizza he wanted • but he really means it • dates with him could be quite adventurous and spontaneous • ‘yo, let���s go on a date today.’ • ‘ok. just let me cancel this thing first.’ • it’s either you guys go to the amusement park the time it opens to nightfall • or you go there, take one ride and leave • Seonho could also be the guy who likes cafe dates • not cafe hopping but • you guys could pinpoint a particular place • go there for a couple of dates to try everything you like on the menu • before moving on to another place • on 1 December, Seonho burst into your house and woke you up by singing to Christmas carols • enthusiasts about the holiday • buys matching ugly Christmas sweaters • he tried to DIY ones with you but they weren’t the best • you wear them to sleep though, because don’t waste comfy sweaters • present wise, if you send him a list of things you want/need, he might get all of them just for you • compliments you all the time • but if that shirt is ugly, that shirt is ugly • Seonho tries to teach you how to play ‘Jingle Bells’ on the piano • it involved a lot more hand-holding than you thought • his passion for music is admirable • just watching him immerse himself in the piano can make anyone cry • and the fact that he wants to involve you in something he holds so close to his heart • C R Y ME A RIVER • when it snows, it’s either you two snuggle by the fireplace • or engage in a deathly snowball fight outside • Guanlin and Wooseok joined you guys once • Guanlin nearly had to go to the ER after • Seonho likes to build snowmen with you • only with you • even though it didn’t look like a picture perfect Olaf, he was so proud of it and took a dozen polaroids • all in all, Seonho is a super supportive boyfriend, loves skinship • he can get annoyingly clingy and sometimes sensitive • but you guys always work it out • because love is love • you learn more about Seonho everyday • he will warm up and open up to you, don’t worry • you love him • like c’mon, he helped you decorate a whole ass Christmas tree then let you put the star on top • this is marriage • happy holidays!

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Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts - 15+ - https://shorthaircutsmodels.com/leighton-meesters-short-hairstyles-and-haircuts/ - Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, The whole process took six hours. Anyone who bleaches their hair knows how harmful it can be. Meester avoids this by using the new black rice-infused Nexxus. Keraphix mask and reconfiguring the Protein treatment. My hair is incredibly bright and soft considering how it's processed. And it's a real testament to the treatments I've done to change the keratin protein. Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, In my hair, she said ELLE.com when we caught him after the salon date. In honor of her new look we Meester decided to walk us through her archive of hair where. We can only imagine what Serena van der Woodsen would do when she saw this photo of Blair Waldorf. like a blonde. Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, The Gossip Girl star not only styled her mid-length brunette tresses into a long bob, but also dyed we are platinum blonde again platinum. Let it sink. following his transformation, Meester admitted that change was something he had always wanted to do. Headbands hold Gossip Girl fans as Leighton Meester made a major hair change more befitting Serena van der Woodsen. Leighton Meester's Short Haircuts Leighton Meester's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, Tuesday's instagram Instagram actress shared a photo of her transformation on Instagram revealing she shed her long burgundy-coloured locks for her wavy platinum lob. Having a blonde moment thank you to my hair rescuers and Keraphix wrote in the protein treatment selfie. Leighton Meester's Hairstyles Well, guess what. he gave his followers a hint about the change after posting a photo of a bowl of purple and yellow paint with the caption. Leighton Meester at the premiere of his country Movie, The Mighty leighton, at the Beverly Hills Theater of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on 2020 - 2021 in Los Angeles, grows and matures as the years go by. She looks so elegant and stylish when she rocks this messy updo hairdo. Leighton Meester's Haircuts Casually draped strands of hair make her look the same sweet as before. From Gossip Girl's Leighton Meester dos up the glamorous red carpet for cute braids and ponytails, as Blair Waldorf and in real life also runs a million hairstyles as her character. Here are our favourite Leighton Meester hairstyles. Wow. Leighton Meester looks stunning with his new super chic blunt cut swept straight through with volume at bob roots. Leighton Meester's Short Hair This bright red lip is also the perfect picture. Does this Leighton's hair pay homage to Princess Leia and other science fiction female characters? At 2020 Star Trek wore Leighton's head hair in a tousled braid and gorgeous natural makeup. Leighton Meester's Hair Gossip Girl's Blair Waldorf may have ditched the headbands just a few seasons ago but the actress has always tried her hair. She became quite the hair adventurer after the show ended and dabbled with different hair colors and styles. Top 27 Leighton Meester Pretty Hairstyles But no one saw this hair shock coming. She is now forever remembered as one of the most iconic brunettes in TV history. 10 years after the show first aired, it's still impossible to think of Meester without imagining him in a headband. 'I had natural hair for a long time,' she said. It's the length that should feel like the opposite of what I want to go to. Best Leighton Meester hair images I Felt by a really sharp margin that something would be exhilarating and fun. I want to try and try different things. So I just wanted to completely change my hair I thought I should go for it. From pre-Gossip Girl twists to Blair Waldorf barrel twists and so far. Leighton Meester Dyes Her Hair Dark Brown The latest news from the Gossip Girl remake and padded headband is currently trending this summer bringing nostalgia for the early 2020. Following is the buzz coming from Leighton Meester on TV in a new series of elite Upper East Coasters, it seems the Queen of the Upper East Side will not be related to Blair Waldorf's role. Leighton Meester Hair Transformation The actress dyed her hair a rich maroon brown color that resembled a Waldorf. Celebrity hair colour expert Justin Anderson shared Meester's new hair on Instagram. And the new color wasn't the only change. Celebrity hairdresser Desiree Leilani Gomez cut out the actress' bob and styled it into loose waves. View yourself with Leighton Meester hairstyles. Leighton Meester's Hair Evolution We also provide easy how to style hair by reporting tips on which facial shape can match hair texture and hair density. I like to be very sensible because I use a lot of products. One of the things people with valuable brands think is less is more, he says, and the envy of his wet body when applied to a golf ball size Wet Hair Volume Mousse in. What is Leighton Meester's natural hair color The Leighton area is then spread throughout the hair using your fingers to make sure the scalp root rub is to ensure maximum removal. He then squeezes the product, using the water as a conduit to help move it through the hair, though the hair is still quite wet. Leighton Meester natural hair color Charles diffuser Leighton says that using hair will be drier but the brush also helps to complete the hair spray with volumetric whole body envy that Charles literally creates units for his hair to create more units when his hair does not naturally contain a little thinner. Leighton Meester hair 2020 - 2021 To her credit with a bevy of brave ensembles and bold beauty meester makes her mark here are our favourites. 26. happy birthday, Leighton. At times Leighton rocked wispy bursts. They look great when they're chocolate brown. Buttoned-up alter ego Blair Waldorf is no slave to the headband, unlike Gossip Girl star leighton Meester. Leighton Meester hair extensions The well-coiffed starlet is known for her long glossy mane volume and the new face of herbal essences which has an almost supernatural level of brilliance. We sat down with the star and her stylist BFF Charles Baker. Strahan to get her tips on how she keeps her hair looking so bushy. Leighton admits he does not often do his own hair and relies on. Leighton Meester natural hair Charles to style his mane. Usually the most thing I do for myself is wash and condition my hair, which is a big deal, Leighton says. Defines the signature view as the next day view. He says he just wants her to be comfortable. Autumn 2020 - 2021 may be a season of side-swept waves and fake bobs but some stars are changing their hair length and colour as. Leighton Meester blonde hair The year ends. Some choose shorter styles, while others go from blonde to brunette and vice versa. Here are 13 new looks wearing 13 stars: which ones get your vote of approval. Leighton Meester began a big head craze as Gossip Girl at Queen B Blair Waldorf on the Upper East Side. Go all the way to find out. Leighton Meester, known for playing stylish schemer Blair Waldorf in Gossip Girl, has said goodbye to his most famous role with. Leighton Meester hair colour A stiff haircut. Debuting her new short 'her new flaunting magazine cover said she did so at a party celebrating leighton JustJared.com gososs. I cut the sar hair then sign. Leighton Meester haircut My long wavy hair has picked up a lot of mileage, so it's time for a change. A lot of miles. Naturally blonde Leighton dyed his hair dark brown to play Blair whose dramatic character constantly contrasts with Blake Lively's bubbly blonde Serena. Leighton Meester curly hair The inspired subplots that included rich brunette waves by many headbangers and later comic fascinators over the course of six seasons all show a series of how to own and YouTube tutorials on Blair's hair. Leighton Meester new haircut Funnily enough Penn Badgley did the same: offered adieu a shave off his. Curly pompadour once his character Dan Humphrey filmed Season. Six where the Gossip Girl star wrapped up. and her hair looks much better now. Leighton Meester red hair To create this volume, Charles uses the body Envy collection of herbal extracts. The actress has now undergone a drastic change that shows how far she has come from her days at Constance Billard. Leighton Meester hairstyle Officially Platinum yellow for the first time. Yesterday at New York's Nexxus Salon, she dived in thanks to Aura Friedman, the in-demand colorist who made everyone from lady Gaga to Jennifer Lawrence. Leighton Meester long hair Instagram story Meester uploaded several more photos to his story on Tuesday from the previous day's process. In one his colorist Aura Friedman washes paint from Meester's now bleached locks. Leighton Meester new hair A photo shoot inspired plaid trousers and black turtleneck and intimate poses. Friedman Meester sports what another taken post–date Sky Star. I had the best time pulling @ itsmeleighton from a brunette who said Friedman to a former Hollywood platinum. Leighton Meester brown hair I got to know Leighton Meester through Gossip Girl character Blair Waldorf. I love Blair, that's why I love Leighton. She is very beautiful and lovely and one of her fans. I love everything about him. In this post I will take you to see the top 27 Leighton's beautiful hair. Let's start with the familiar ones. Gossip Girl Blair always seems to wear a cute headband. No matter your hair is straight or wavy, a proper headband will make you very cute. Leighton Meester hair color Do not disturb the front hair. You could say that a paint job changed the course of Leighton Meester's life. The natural blonde colored her hair brown in the process. Of auditioning her Gossip Girl to help the celebrity creators envision her as Blair Waldorf.