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#and my watercolours are falling apart so new ones are coming soon which is also very yay!!!
geekys-corner · 3 years
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Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)
Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*
Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!
Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.
Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.
Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!
Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.
Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family. 
Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.
Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)
Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.
Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)
Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.
Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!
Bloodbranded:
Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.
Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!
Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!
Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.
That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^
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atsixesandcevans · 5 years
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All Too Well
Summary: A collection of memories from your time with Steve, and the reality you now find yourself in.
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: angst, fluff
A/N: This was written for @yslbuckyx 1k celebration writing challenge, and my prompt was the song All Too Well by Taylor Swift. I had a lot of fun writing this, and although the song is quite angsty, I've tried to make the end of this slightly less so, as well as taking a few creative liberties to make the song work. It's technically also a modern-day au, but its not really mentioned, it just made it easier to make the song work. This also happens to be the first fic I've completed in 2 years, and my first fic for the mcu, so please be gentle, and I hope you enjoy! <3
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You cursed under your breath as you rifled through the storage boxes stashed under the bed, the ones filled with your winter wear, searching for your old scarf – worn and tattered but still your favourite – that you could’ve sworn you had put in there.
It was September, and the temperature had suddenly dropped, the world saying farewell to the long, hot summer, and you found yourself thrust into the chilled winds of autumn.
As you pulled out the last box, you heard a thud come from under the bed, and you ducked your head down to see what it was – a photo album. It sat, lost and forgotten, hidden from view, the memories too painful to look at, and too beautiful to get rid of. Distant sadness flooded through you as you realised what it was; the album you had filled with pictures of your time with Steve.
You reached under, grasping the solid cover, pulling it towards you. Your scarf forgotten, you perched on the end of your bed and started to flick through the pages, memories surging forward at the sight of every one.
The first picture was of you and Steve together, almost two years ago, right at the start of your relationship. You were huddled together, bundled up against the cold, snowflakes clinging to your eyelashes and the hair that wasn’t covered by your beanie. Wrapped around your neck was your old scarf, the one you had been looking for, the same one Steve had used to pull you closer to him so that he could press warm kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your nose. Your faces were bright, happy, the unbridled joy of the very first snow of winter.
In the picture, Steve had his arm around your shoulders, sharing the body heat he knew you needed, and he was looking down at you with the softest look on his face while you looked at the camera – though you couldn’t remember who was taking the photo.
Next to it was another, taken moments after the first, almost the same as the first, except in that one Steve had his lips pressed firmly against your cheek, the cold tip of his nose nudging the side of your eye.
Prospect Park had been beautiful that day, the light dusting of snow making the trees and grass look like something from a Christmas card. Families and couples had gathered all over the park, each with cold-brightened faces. Steve had taken you back to his apartment from the park, refusing to even entertain the idea of you walking all the way back to your place on the other side of town, even with him pressed tightly against your side.
It had been cold when you walked in, though Steve had immediately turned the heating on and gave you one of his sweaters to wear while he made cocoa. It was cold, sure, but you couldn’t help but think it felt so homely; pictures and trinkets placed on the empty surfaces, books lining the shelves, an easel set up in the corner by the window, some drawings and paintings pinned to the wall in an almost haphazard collage of both colour and monochrome.
You remembered, now, how you had left your scarf there that day. After spending the rest of the day cuddled with Steve, you had forgotten about plans you had made it the evening, and so left in a rush, your scarf forgotten on the coat rack by the door. You reasoned you’d take it home another time, but each time it remained forgotten until the warmer weather rolled in and you didn’t need it.
On the next page, there were three photos; one of the view from a hilltop, oranges and yellows and browns creating an autumnal sea as far as the eye could see, one of you in boots and a sweater, leg raised mid-kick through a pile of leaves, hair brushed back by the chill autumn wind, and finally one of Steve, crouched in front of a golden retriever, Charlie, face screwed up in a grin as his new companion gave him endless energetic kisses.
You’d come across Charlie on his walk during a trip you and Steve had taken upstate. On a rare day where you were both free, Steve decided the two of you would go on an adventure, so you took the car and lunch and just drove, not caring where you were going or if you got lost, only that you were together, full of that feeling that wasn’t quite love, but could be one day.
In a rare moment of distraction, Steve almost ran a red light because he couldn’t stop looking at you, the joy on your face as you sang along to whatever pop was on the radio. Steve didn’t care for the music, but it didn’t matter; the pure happiness on your face was all he cared about, and he found himself wanting to make sure you stayed that happy for the rest of your life.
And you were happy, then. Even now you could remember how right it all felt, how things were finally, finally falling into place.
The next page held just one photo – an old image, two young boys stood close together, wearing kid’s baseball uniforms, arms flung over shoulders and wide grins on their faces. One of the boys – Steve – was skinny, his uniform hanging off of his body. His dirty blond hair fell into his eyes, which were framed by black circular glasses. The tip of his nose was shiny and red, despite being in the height of summer, a sure sign of the hay fever he was no doubt suffering from at the time.
Bucky, in contrast, was taller, more filled out, and looked very much at home in the uniform, holding a baseball bat up against his shoulder.
It still baffled you how much Steve had changed physically since then. Obviously, he’d had one hell of a growth spurt, and now stood a little taller than Bucky, while he once only came up to his best friend’s shoulders. He was still the same at heart, though, from what Bucky had told you that day; soft, caring, but not afraid to fight for what was right. Always willing to stand up for the little guy, the one who couldn’t stand up for himself, just like Steve had been all those years ago.
Steve had taken you to Bucky’s apartment, a few months into your relationship, and the three of you had sat around the kitchen counter, box of photographs scattered across the surface, while Bucky told story after story from his and Steve’s childhood. Steve’s cheeks tinted pink as Bucky recalled the time he had thrown up after riding the Cyclone at Coney Island, and how the only real reason he got onto the Tee-ball team in the first place was out of sheer persistence as opposed to actual athletic talent. He really couldn’t play very well, but the coach had taken pity on him and let him on the team, placing him in a deep-fielding position so as to keep him as far from the action as possible (though it didn’t stop Steve from getting bruise after bruise from flying balls).
He told stories about how he had to come to rescue Steve on countless occasions when he got on the wrong side of one or other of the big kids that hung around the neighbourhood. How Steve’s mom would roll her eyes and fuss over him when he came home with yet another bruise or graze, yet how she never once told him to stop standing up for others, only to “be more careful,” quietly proud of her only son’s heart of gold.
It was the first time you had seen Steve truly embarrassed. While they had taught you about Steve’s past, you wondered, now, if they, like you, had thought that you were his future. Judging by Steve’s embarrassment, you had assumed he didn’t involve a whole lot of people in his past, and it broke your heart to think that he might think it was a mistake to let you in.
You’d stolen the picture. Or rather, it was given to you, by Bucky, while Steve was in the bathroom. He’d slid it across the counter with a wink, pressing one finger to his lips with a sly smirk which you had returned. You had never told Steve you had it, instead you’d tucked it away as soon as you had returned home, though you had been oh so tempted to frame it and hang it pride of place in your living room to serve as a reminder of the way your Steve had always been, kind-hearted and true.
That feeling was gone. Now, all the picture reminded you of was an easier time, and the promise of a future that couldn’t be.
A single tear hit the page and you took a deep breath, shutting the album abruptly. The memories were good, but you couldn’t help the way your heart ached just a little at what you had lost.
It had all changed so quickly between you and Steve, and you couldn’t place exactly what it was that had changed. Maybe the communication between you broke down, and Steve had become less open with his feelings, bottling things up like he had done when you had first met. Maybe the blame was yours; perhaps you had begun to ask too much of him, desperate for him to share his life with you. Or, maybe what you had was a masterpiece, a beautiful watercolour of bright oranges and pinks, until it was torn up by secrets and heartache.
Soon, it all became too much. Steve would cancel on plans with last-minute phone calls which almost always ended in an argument that was only ever partly resolved, neither of you wanting to be apart for long. During those arguments, you both became cruel, spouting hurtful things that neither of you really meant to say, but knew were at least partly true. You’d both attributed it to merely being honest with each other, but each time you both ended up feeling like crumpled pieces of paper, laying used and abandoned on the cold ground. Until it became too much, and you’d both finally waved white flags of surrender.
Time flew when you were together. There never seemed to be enough time, and you found yourselves spending as much time together as possible, neither wanting to say goodbye. Perhaps that’s where your relationship broke down; you both fell for each other so hard and so fast, perhaps neither of you stopped to think about whether you were even ready to commit fully to each other.
Now, though, time seemed to drag. You often felt paralysed by it, going through the motions each day with no real goal. You’d changed in the year since your relationship with Steve, you knew you had. The heartbreak had torn you apart, made you more closed off, submitting yourself to an altogether lonely existence.
You were still trying to find your old self again, the person you were – loving, open, optimistic to a fault, the very things that Steve claimed to have fallen in love with – before you dated Steve. Before the days he’d wear his plaid shirts because you’d told him they made him look like a sexy lumberjack, and mornings you’d wear nothing but that after a night full of nothing but love and passion and the promise of forever, forever, forever.
The finality of it all had hit you when you received a box of your belongings from Steve. You hated that you felt hurt by the fact that he didn’t even have the decency to give them to you in person. It had been shoved to the back of the closet as soon as you had opened it, the memories attached to the things inside too raw and painful for your aching heart. The rain poured that day, and where Steve once would have taken you home, insisting that he didn’t want you to catch a cold, you now trudged home alone, rain soaking your feet despite the umbrella clung tightly in your fist.
What you didn’t know was that Steve had kept your old scarf, had it stashed away in his drawer ever since that first week when you left it at his place. He takes it out sometimes, to remember a time when he was so full of light and hope, to remind him of your innocence and optimistic view of the world. It still somehow smelled like you, though the scent was fading, and he refused to wash it, clinging desperately to that last sliver of a better time, before he lost what he now realised what the only real thing he had ever known, the only time he had felt so truly, wholly in love.
Love like that was rare, magical, and although it had hurt when it ended, and still did sometimes, you were both grateful to have even experienced it at all.
It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.
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haledamage · 4 years
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Kira Grace Kingston
female, she/her
5'6”, slender build
shoulder-length, straight dark-brown hair
pale, lightly freckled skin
light brown eyes
bisexual (though I play her in-game as straight because I just really connected with the all-male Unit Bravo for some reason)
Taurus, born 28 April 1992; 25 at the beginning of Book 1, turns 26 between Book 1 and 2
left-handed
Romance: all of them, I’m using the same Detective for all routes
(infodump about her under the cut, for my own purposes mostly but also for anyone interested)
--Was inspired to become a cop to help people after having one help her when she really, really needed it. Wanted to pay it forward, so to speak.
--Kira is a natural leader and very good at deduction and problem solving (it’s her second highest stat, after people/psychology). She would have likely gone out for detective soon anyway, but didn’t think she was ready or old enough to be in charge of the whole station yet and was surprised when the promotion came. The rest of the station had been secretly considering her their boss for years before Detective Reele retired, but Kira somehow has no idea.
--Totally shot Adam. Feels really bad about it but would never tell him that.
--Will drink tea or coffee, but prefers tea. Her favorites are cinnamon tea and masala chai. If she’s drinking coffee, she prefers the sugary, flavored, Starbucks-like variety, but will sometimes drink it black just to unnerve people (people mostly being Tina).
--Doesn’t wear much make-up, but likes to paint her nails. Usually black or some other dark color, a “layover from her misspent youth.”
--Wears contacts. Has gold-framed glasses that she wears when she has to, but hates them. She’s farsighted, so if for some reason she can’t wear her contacts, she only puts on the glasses for reading.
--Plays guitar and lap steel guitar. Prefers to play blues music, but can play just about any genre. A pretty good singer, but very shy about it. Probably only Rebecca and Tina have ever heard her sing as far as she knows. (she sings to herself at her desk sometimes, but doesn’t realize it. All of UB have probably noticed; Felix definitely has, and is likely waiting for a good opportunity to tease her about it)
--She’s always been very close with Rebecca. They’re both rather independent-minded, so she didn’t mind her mother’s absences so much. Mum was always there when she needed her, and always willing to listen, and that’s what mattered. Now that she knows what she does, Kira is sure that she’s called her mother while she was on a mission before, but Rebecca still always answered, and that fact makes her respect and admire her mum even more.
--Lost a bet to Verda in regards to The Reveal. Verda had said the Murphy case and its oddities were supernatural in nature, Kira said it was science experiments gone awry. Technically, they were both right, but Verda was more right. Kira looks forward to one day being able to tell him, even if she’ll be out £50 for it.
--The only reason Kira isn’t some reclusive hermit is because of Tina Poname. Tina and Kira met when they were both in a very low place, and have lifted each other up and helped put each other back on their feet. Their friendship is very important to Kira, and the fact that she can’t tell Tina that the Hot Secret Agents they’re working with are Hot Secret Agent Vampires is the hardest part of The Reveal. She’s not used to keeping secrets from Tina.
--Tina and Kira have a monthly movie night. One of them picks the movie and the other picks the food, then they swap the next month. It’s more like an adult slumber party than anything else, really, lots of wine and gossip and venting if need be. It’s a tradition going back years now and neither would miss it for the world.
--Is very good with people, it’s her highest stat, but doesn’t actually enjoy being around them much. Very much an introvert, prefers silence and solitude or the company of close friends only. She works very hard to be as approachable as she is.
--Curses like a sailor. Poor Nate.
--Loves to read. Anything and everything. You put a book in front of her and she’ll read it. Mysteries are a favorite.
--Her favorite color is wintergreen like Adam’s eyes.
--Apartment style would be somewhere between cosy and dark. Kind of a Spooky Grandma’s House vibe. Lush fabrics and textures, soft sofas and chairs, but subdued colors. Black, gray, navy blue, with pale blue and wintergreen accents. Artwork is mostly made by locals or by friends from university. Bookshelves nearly overflowing. Apartment is kept clean, but always looks a bit cluttered.
--Preferred clothing style is casual but professional. Jeans, most often paired with a t-shirt or button-up shirt. Mostly long sleeves, but with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Usually black, sometimes white or gray, very, very rarely dark green or dark blue. Black leather jacket when it’s cold. Almost always wears black boots; she paid more for those boots than she did for her car (but that says more for how little she paid for the car than how expensive her boots actually are).
--Speaks seven languages. English, Sign Language, Spanish, French, German, Welsh, and, because someone dared her to at university, Sindarin Elvish. With the exception of the elvish, she learned most of them out of necessity or exposure.
--English literature major. Doesn’t serve much in her job, but she’s still proud of it.
--Very shy when it comes to flirting. She hates it about herself. She’s very confident and self-assured in almost every other situation, but if someone starts showing the slightest bit of genuine interest in her she flusters very easily.
--Dated Bobby in year one at university for a couple months. With him in journalism and her in English lit, they had a lot of class overlap early on, and he was familiar and clearly interested and that was enough, for a while. She regrets that she fell so easily for his flirting and has resolved since to not be such an “easy mark” in the future. Hasn’t dated anyone since and hasn’t wanted to (until UB barge into her office, obviously). Kind of hates him, but would never let him know that; she is, instead, very meticulously polite to him, never any more or less.
--At the beginning of Book 1, she has 4 tattoos. Gets a 5th one during the 2 months between Book 1 and Book 2.      -a small, stylized crown on her right wrist (Rebecca has a matching one that she hides under her watch band at work) because Kingston     -bars of music wrapped around her right bicep (watercolour-style effect behind it - the music is Tom Petty’s “Won’t Back Down”)     -a quote on the inside of her left bicep (“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein)     -a large full-color floral piece from her left hip almost to her knee (forget-me-nots for her father, lupines for her mother, lavender roses and verbena for herself)     -new tattoo is a simple, black crescent moon on the back of her neck to symbolize a new beginning (keeps it hidden under her hair most of the time, especially at work).
--Preferred method of working out is rock climbing/wall climbing. Has some combat training, mostly just from the police academy, but she tries to attend aikido lessons when she has time. She likes that it lets her defend herself without being stronger than her opponent, especially now that she deals with the supernatural so much.
--Kira didn’t realize how attached she’d grown to Unit Bravo until the attack on her apartment. She wanted to stay to help her team; on every route, she has to be dragged away in order to get her to leave. Completely, 100% ride or die for all of them.
Kira is my only Detective and I’m using her in all four routes (sorry, folks, I can’t do the Love Triangle. I tried, but I can’t, it already hurts and I’m not strong enough). It’s been very interesting, since she has the same personality no matter what, to see in what ways she connects with each member of Unit Bravo, and the slight changes in her personality stats based on how she responds to romance-specific scenes.
Adam: arguably my “canon” romance for her, though I legitimately and completely love all of them. On his route, her stats skew a little more toward Stubborn and Impulsive because she’s spiteful and he’s kind of an ass, especially to start with. 
They’re both headstrong and natural leaders, so they butt heads a lot in terms of authority. She doesn’t like that Adam tries to order her around, he doesn’t like that she refuses to listen to orders sometimes out of spite. But when they actually try to get along, they agree more often than not and could probably make an amazing team given time. 
She’s completely, head-over-heels in love with him, but she hasn’t figured it out yet, though she knows she feels something for him. He makes her feel safe, which is how she knows that she’s in deep. 
On Adam’s route, Nate is Kira’s best friend. Poor guy’s gonna be stuck between the immovable object and the unstoppable force for 7 fucking books.
Nate: On Nate’s route, Kira’s stats tend more toward Cautious, and also a bit more Heart on the Heart/Mind scale. 
Of all of them, Nate would be the one Kira would be most surprised to find herself falling for. She’s not much of a romantic, generally, but she’s also never had anyone look at her like Nate does, or treat her like she’s something precious and important. She feels completely off balance with him and has no idea how to react. She has never been so overwhelmed with a desire to kiss someone before. 
Personality-wise, they have a lot in common, both are good with people, compassionate, linguistically talented, and avid readers; to anyone except Kira, them getting together makes perfect sense. He probably doesn’t like how stubborn and foul-mouthed she is, but between Adam and Mason, he’s used to dealing with it. 
On Nate’s route, Mason is Kira’s best friend. No one is more surprised about that than they are, and they aren’t really sure how that happened.
Felix: On Felix’s route, Kira skews more toward Easygoing and Impulsive. 
In a word, Felix helps Kira relax. She’s a bit of a workaholic and he brings her out of her shell and reminds her that she’s more than just Detective Kingston. It’s refreshing and overwhelming. Romance with Felix is easy. 
He’s the only one where she doesn’t end up 100% shy because, even though she still gets horribly flustered by him, he doesn’t make her as tongue-tied as the others do. Maybe it’s because he’s so much less intense than the others, but also she kind of feels like she’s always known him. 
She wants to show him the world, all the little things about being human that she’s always taken for granted but he never had in Echo World. Paper airplanes and creepy travelling carnivals and movie theater popcorn and photo booths and everything. They’ll be good for each other, but them joining forces is probably very bad for everyone else. 
On Felix’s route, Nate is Kira’s best friend. Unlike with Adam, he isn’t so much trapped between two opposing forces as he is an exhausted parent trying to corral overly-curious children.
Mason: On Mason’s route, Kira’s stats tend even more toward Genuine than they do on other routes, as well as Stubborn. 
On the surface Mason and Kira probably don’t look like they’d work, but really I think they’re the pairing that makes the most sense. Mason doesn’t drain her social batteries as much as the others, even at the beginning when he’s as hostile toward her as possible. They both enjoy the quiet, and that’s where the first romantic feelings from her would form, in the calm and silent comfort she feels with him. 
But obviously, it doesn’t start romantic even a little bit. At the beginning, she’s neither intimidated nor put off by his sharp, brusque personality, and she’s very flustered and intimidated by his intense manner of flirting, though she’s not really put off by it either. She doesn’t know how to respond to it (though he clearly enjoys how she reacts), but he makes her feel desired in a way she never has before. There’s a certain comfort to knowing that he only wants her physically, that he’s straightforward in his interests. 
I imagine that she figures out she’s falling for him after he does something small that should be innocuous, some little off-hand affection that he didn’t even think about and she just goes “oh shit, I’m in love with Mason.” 
On Mason’s route, Felix is Kira’s best friend. He definitely sees them falling for each other long before they see it and does everything he can to get them to stop being idiots and realize that they’re in love.
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vondehnvisuals · 4 years
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Hello every One, and welcome to the Fabulous Free Lance Friday Edition of the Good News Journal where I wield My S-Word (Sean’s Word) fearlessly.  Thank King You for joining Me, I have an unusual and interesting Edition for You today.  I Will be tall King about some of the Ways I Mind My Father’s House, both with respect to the Kingdom God Gave Me and the Land where I am tending My temporary Keep.
I had two new thirty day challenges set out for My Self this month; one was an hour a day dedicated to Art, the other was fifteen minutes a day dedicated to learning Latin.  My Latin challenge lasted only a day, My Mind was just not into it (though I was rather impressed with how much I remembered, so I am inspired to pick it up again soon).  My Art challenge has been successful, though I Give My Self a lot of leeway because painting is something I really need to be inspired to do.  I am also more inclined to paint when I have empty canvas for new character portraits (por-traits, for traits) waiting in the wings.  With the whole covid thing it hasn’t been easy to get new canvas, I’m pretty fussy about what I Wish for when it comes to Art work.  So I allowed for anything Creative to be considered My hour of Art, which might even include gardening because that really is something of an Art, too.
I got some baking done, I’ve been war King on colouring (painting with watercolour) a picture for My niece and hope to get three done to send out before the end of the month.  I had no Idea I would enjoy something as simple as colouring so much but I really do and I have a beautiful set of watercolour felt markers with paint brush-like tips, so it was Good to find something useful and Creative to do with them.  I’ve also spent some time organizing any plants the squirrels haven’t destroyed and always have some new seedlings sprouting somewhere.  I mentioned that gardening is something of an Art, too, and although I am very much an amateur with respect to growing a fruit and vegetable garden (because I’ve never really had a garden before), I have something of a Magical Gift for growing plants indoors.  This is one of the reasons I’m not going to let the squirrels discourage Me too much this year.  I Will come up with a solution for next season and Will just grow My plants in containers this year and bring them indoors when it gets too cold (as it’s getting late to be starting things now).
Crassula Ovata, also commonly known as ‘Jade’ plant here in Canada, is also considered the ‘Lucky’ plant, money plant, or money tree.  I find that interesting because there are no coincidences in My Universe and a pair of leaves I cut from a jade plant at My last address was the first plant to be placed in soil in My new apartment.  It did nothing for roughly three months and ‘Magically’ Showed its first Sign of new Life on My name day, June 5th.
She is now ready to stand on her own.
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I have been trying to come up with a name for her, and I have decided it Will be Lady Luck.  Removing the two starting leaves Will encourage the new growth and they Will form a ‘scab’ and dry up where they were cut and eventually fall off, Creating an entirely new plant.  The leaves that were cut Will not go to waste, either.  I’m Creating a Special propagator for them.
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The knife isn’t ideal, little big for what I need but it has a tapered tip which actually works pretty well and it is certainly sharp enough.  It should be sharp enough that it doesn’t crush the leaf at all.  The paper is just to keep earth from falling through the slits in the side of the container which Will allow water to drain very well.  Then I fill the container with organic potting soil.
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Then I pack the soil down very firmly before adding any moisture.
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Now surgery begins.
You can see that I am cutting near the bottom and removing all leaves except the top two or four (depending on size).  Removing the excess leaves makes for a longer stem so it Will be easy to stand in the soil.  As soon as the stem is surrounded by earth, it Will automatically begin producing roots.  The plants get re-potted.
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Now, I’ve done all of this before and this is what works for Me, I don’t think I’ve ever killed a jade plant, they are the easiest to propagate like this.  Propagating leaves can be a little trickier, sometimes they just do nothing, shrivel up and dry out.  But any pair of leaves with just a hint of stem has always taken root, Lady Luck is an example that took three months of patience.  If they are not dying, they are growing roots.  I always water generously as soon as I do this, most People would say not to because they are succulents.  In fact, it is recommended to leave them (leaves and stem sections cut) out on a dry windowsill for a couple of days.  The cut scabs over and eventually roots Will sprout from the stem or end of the leaf, it survives by conserving the water in the leaf itself and using sunlight to grow new roots looking for soil and moisture.  I water the soil generously but make sure it is well drained and well ventilated, then I let it dry out completely for at least a full day, maybe two, then repeat.  Usually, new growth Will appear within a week if done during the growing season (now).  I guarantee every one of the eight potted plants Will survive, not sure how the leaves Will work out but I am cautiously optimistic.  Watering generously after transplanting allows the soil to set.  One of the most important things for the leaves Will be not to disturb them, so future watering Will be done with a spray bottle from above until the surrounding soil is generously moistened.
Alright, now for some health news.  One of My other activities I’ve incorporated into My daily routine is war King out.  I do push ups one day, chin ups the next, then repeat.  I mentioned I require a special diet because of My high metabolism and this is no exaggeration.  I require a high amount of fat in My diet to lubricate joints or heavy muscle load is difficult.  Sometimes I can be prone to tendinitis and other similar injuries.  Unlike most People, I believe My body Will evolve and adapt and it has (for Me) proven to be True with tendinitis related to My shoulders.  I also believe I have a high pain tolerance (although it is Truly impossible for Me to know because I don’t know what other People feel) and Will work through pain.  I believe in the ‘no pain, no gain’ theory and Trust that My body can feel the difference between ‘Good’ pain and bad pain.
Yesterday, just before doing My first set of chins, I hang and allow My muscles and joints to fully stretch out to ensure I am achieving a full range of motion.  War King out actually improves flexibility, contrary to what many People think providing proper technique is used including a full range of motion.  Sometimes joints ‘crack’ and ‘pop’ as they are stretching out, this is not entirely uncommon, especially on the first rep or warm up.  My joints did feel as though they were creaking a bit as I allowed them to fully stretch out but there was no pain.  But as I began to pull up for My first repetition, My right elbow joint felt stiff like there was a tendon or something in the Way of the motion I was trying accomplish.  Then there was a sound like knuckles cracking and I felt a wonderful release of all the tension; whatever was ‘in the Way’ felt like it broke, but it didn’t hurt and I was able to complete My set almost effortlessly.
However, a few hours after My workout, I was sitting resting My forearms on My lap, cradling My elbows with My Hands and My right elbow felt like it had started a workout routine of its own!
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Yeah…  No pain though.  It sounds like bursitis, except without the pain and without red, burning skin.
Olecranon bursitis is a condition in which swelling and inflammation occur in a small fluid-filled sac (the bursa) at the tip of the elbow. The bursa forms a soft cover over the elbow tip and allows the skin to glide smoothly when one bends and extends the elbow. – Wikipedia
But “allows the skin to glide smoothly when one bends and extends the elbow”.  I could actually feel tension gathering as I was stretching out, before I began to pull up, as if pressure from further down My tendons was collecting near the tip at My elbow.  When I started to pull up, it felt like that same tension was still there and blocking the tendon.  It literally felt like something was removed when it cracked and I was able to pull up almost effortlessly, no pain at all.
I Will Keep You posted on this if it turns out I’m wrong, I’m not Giving medical advice here, just sharing My own personal philosophies.  I don’t doubt it’s bursitis, but I’m not sure it’s really a bad thing.  I had cartilage in My chest crack when I was young, too once the weights got serious, it was just My body’s Way of adapting to the heavier load.  I don’t believe this is any different.  I think I may be reaching close to a lifetime record of chins per workout (36).
I figured this was worth mentioning because it’s one example of Me not going to a doctor.  The Idea did not even cross My Mind as a serious consideration.  Now, if it continues to grow, change colour, start causing Me serious discomfort, I may reconsider but for now, I just consider it real time evolution; My body adapting to the new physical demands I am may King it do.
Told You this one would be different.  Hope You are all well, more news on Magical Spells coming Saturday.
Love and Blessings!!!
  Volume CXVII: The Fabulous Free Lance Friday Edition; Minding My Father’s House Hello every One, and welcome to the Fabulous Free Lance Friday Edition of the Good News Journal where I wield My S-Word (Sean's Word) fearlessly. 
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pendragonfics · 7 years
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Part Three
Perhaps: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Paring: Mycroft Holmes/Reader
Tags: female reader, reader is an author, references to other fandoms (like Doctor Who), coffee shops, POV Mycroft, POV reader, feels, loneliness, fluff, bad matchmaking, tea makes everything better, kissing.
Summary: Three times in which you come across and into the life of Mycroft Holmes, and he in your own.
But with all the greatness of each other's lives, there is one thing which status and fame cannot supply, and that is company.
Word Count: 1,565
Posting Date:  2017-03-30
Current Date: 2017-06-16
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There was a downside, to being a famous author - there was never a moment when you were just the same old ______ who you'd grown up with. There was always the haunting, looming shadow of that novel, the one which sometimes you wished you'd never published because that was all they saw when anyone looked at you. It was like Eeyore's little grey rain cloud that followed him all over the Hundred Acre Wood; there was just it following you.
Come to think of it, other authors who had an insane uptake to their fame probably felt the same way. Although, few of them seemed as against it as you were. J. K. Rowling probably never wished for the days before, or Roald Dahl for that matter. But for you, there was never a moment when you were just honestly yourself for your own sake.
A damn human being.
It was a month later when the police came by for another sweep of the building when another hand followed that of the law - when the door beside your own was being searched within and out, yours had its own visitor; a man in a suit with a kind smile that looked through the misty glasses that sat upon the end of your nose.
"I don't suppose you take milk in your tea, do you?" you asked him, leading him into your home. It was the same as the one you lived beside of, with a small bedroom, and a modest bathroom and a little place to cook. His eyes swept it all, as you went to put the kettle on, and prepared the room as best you could to play host to Mycroft. "I think I forgot to grab biscuits last time I went to Tesco's..." you glance over your shoulder, to see him standing there, almost swaying in the doorway. "... is something wrong, Mycroft?"
He shook his head. "No, no, nothing's ... I am needed in Greenland. Politics, you know. I'm here to -,"
"Pleasantries," You nod, spitting the word out before he leaves it on his tongue a moment longer. "I understand. But you're still having tea, aren't you? It's a real drag drinking alone, and you know us, British, if you're having tea, then everyone's having tea ..." you busy yourself in the small kitchenette, throwing the clean dishes from the rack into the cupboard, stuffing a pair of knickers slung over the couch into a hamper. "I don't suppose you'll be around for long, then?"
Mycroft shook his head once more. "I leave in a day."
"I meant, for tea," you wrinkle your nose.
At that, the kettle dingles the finished song, you busy yourself over the little mugs, a pair which don't match, and there's a chip on the handle of the grey one, with a tartan pattern, and the golden one is losing its sheen, the slogan printed badly onto the knock-off porcelain. But still, they're beautiful mugs, and you share the other cup with the man in your house, and sit with him on the second-hand saggy sofa.
You glance to him, and give a smile over the cup. "I take it you don't often extend yourself this far to people often," you place the mug on your knee. "I do the same thing."
He chuckles, but it isn't mirthful. "It's strange how people who come from different struggles often have the same story in the end," he frowns into his mug, taking a deep sip. For a minute, the pair of you sit in silence, the slow bumping and murmur through the walls from the police in the apartment beside you. Then, "I'm so very glad I found you, Ms. _________, it has been an honour knowing you."
You put your cup down. "It's ________. And it's been an honour being a friend to you, Mycroft."
---
There was a downside, to being a politician like Mycroft Holmes was - there was never a moment when he was the young boy before he took on the apprenticeship in local parliament, who studies for years to come to where he was. When he used to sit in the backyard in the countryside and just breathe and notice life as it went past him and smile. He was a grown man who took a hold of the lives of the country, of all his end of Europe, and tried his best to keep the lives of millions of innocents safe from the madmen in the world.
It was a job which would never have him a moment left to breathe, and he was sure that most people in positions like his own would be caught in an internal battle of which falling in love with their jobs every day, and wishing it to end every night never to come back. Yes. There were battles in his mind, but there were greater battles out in the world where threats were very real and the strange men who thought themselves worthy opponents of his little brother needed to be dealt with accordingly.
But to be completely, and terribly honest, there was never a moment when Mycroft closed his eyes and saw himself back at his childhood home seeing the fields dusted with snow. No. There was never a moment when he was just honestly himself for his own sake. There were glimpses of these moments, which made it seem possible - but only when he was in the company of the one and only writer, the author who seemed to write his thoughts. The _________ __________, who had the country in rapture of her words upon the pages of her novel, and his heart, too.
It had taken months, nearly six of them to turn the council and the ear of Geneva to the correct way of thinking, and with that, Anthea and he were home-bound, due back through Heathrow any minute that the plane descended. There as a car waiting to take him to his estate, and Anthea to her family. After six months of twenty-four-hour work, he'd decided it was more than enough to give them both time off until the next crisis struck, that there should be some time to breathe and such. Perhaps he'd take up watercolours.
Perhaps he'd find out what time had done with ________.
But as soon as the plane indeed touched down, and the car came and departed with both employer and assistant, there were other things on his mind, and when it came to the moment when Anthea was dropped off her at sister's home, Mycroft snapped out of the reverie, one which oddly sounded like the plot to Love He simply told the driver to take him to his home. Not the cosy apartment downtown, and not to where the (h/c) haired woman lived.
It was not when he entered the house that he noticed, nor when he felt the warmth of his fireplace, or the smell of food cooking that he hadn't asked for, but when he glanced down at the door, and saw it. A pair of shoes, sneakers, little sand-shoes with rubber soles sitting on their side, funnily-patterned socks stuffed inside the high tops. His eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, but it hit him: he was not alone in the house.
And it was then he connected it all, and as he turned to see what was going on in his sitting area, the corridor held another story: the form of the woman who was in his mind for the last six months as he lived through days and nights toiling over the good of all people upon Europe, and the earth.
"Anthea, she called ahead and had the key left for me," the sound of her voice in his ears, truly being there before him is mesmerising, and all he can do is stand there, silent. "It's been torture, I missed having the bloke in the three piece to chat with," he takes a step toward her, shedding his coat upon the hanger, and the jacket. "But also, that I never really got a moment to tell him that I was stupid and common and didn't tell him when I had the chance."
Mycroft quirks a brow, and breathlessly, he ponders aloud, "Stupid, and common are not words I shall ever use to describe the wonder that you are, my dear," he reaches a hand, and cradles her face, feeling the warmth of the hearth afire beneath her skin. "But, pray tell, as I have waited six months to tell you something also."
She chuckles. "Didn't you know? I'm pretty sure that I'm in love with you."
"Oh, I knew," he lowers his face to yours, guiding you closer to his lips. "And perhaps, if it is possible, I feel the same way that you do too." At that, his hand has no control over her face, as her arms are around his neck, his lips encapsulated, heart rate rocketing as he realises that all it took for him was six months of hell in icy Greenland to realise that he wasn't so much of a machine as he thought, and that there was somebody that could, perhaps, like somebody like himself.
"Just kiss me back, and follow me to your lounge," she grinned.
And that, was the greatest news he'd heard in six months too.
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