#characteristics

[hypothetipolls]

Your hair (head and body) is getting replaced. What are you having instead?

Harmless fire (any color). Or harmful I guess, I’m not your mom

Feathers (any color/type)

Snakes (any type or color) and scales for body hair

Quills

Metal strands

Fog (any color)

Tentacles/tendrils (any color or texture)

Floating liquid (any)

Wires/Plugs/Cords

Branches/vines/other plant matter

Seashell

Other (no actual hair!)

Voting ended onApr 6

Whatever you choose, you have some way of styling or “shaving” it.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Sometimes I look at all of my main characters and it feels like I’m writing the same personalities over and over again under different circumstances. I think dialogue may have something to do with it, but there are a lot of other overlapping parallels beyond having the same tone; grammar patterns; and vocabulary.

Do you have any advice on how to (practice?) writing a more diverse cast of personalities?

While I will readily admit putting the same type of character in everything I write, I agree this can become a problem that's hard to figure out. Here's some things you can try.

Shake up your media. Find yourself watching the same things over and over? Switch genres. Note how characters talk and interact. Even if you'll never write a romance or a sci-fi epic, taking notes from character types that stick out to you can help. If you're not sure where to start, pick a few favorite actors and check out the different media they're in. Note how they change their body language and vocabulary from role to role, and how those changes make these characters stick out. Remember: The most important part of this process is to take notes on what makes these characters work. You want to make that technique work for you!

Pre-write characteristic templates. Distinguish body language, verbal tics, and outlooks (a pessimistic character versus an optimistic one) before you start writing. When editing, go through and make sure these characteristics are on the page. You don't have to go overboard and give people thick accents and catchphrases, but you do want to take a hard look at characters that come off the same in dialogue. Is a quiet character talking too much? Is someone who should be aggressive coming off as too calm? Remember that you can always fix this when editing!

Do some low-stakes writing exercises. If it's a real struggle to nail this down, throw your characters into some scenarios that won't end up in the final product. How do they act when they get the wrong order? Get stuck in an elevator? What's the most frustrating situation you can out your calmest character in? What's the most uncomfortable situation you can subject to your main character? You likely won't use this in your main story, but you will be able to gleam insights - and snag some dialogue! - for when these characters are facing down a dragon or negotiating their way out of a gunfight.

Don't force it. A first draft is going to be messy. Don't despair if you don't nail down your characters the first go around. Remember you can always fix it! I've gone over argument scenes a number of time to get the tone just right. Time and effort will make you better at this.

[lord-of-the-prompts]

DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:

Body

descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.

Eyebrows

descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.

shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.

Ears

shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.

Eyes

colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).

descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.

positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.

Face

descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.

shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.

Facial Hair

beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.

clean-shaven

moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.

sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.

Hair

colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).

descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.

length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.

type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.

Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.

Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.

Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.

Lips/Mouth

colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)

descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.

shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.

Nose

descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.

shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.

Skin

descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.

complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.

[blueeyedruby97]

Ok so uhm...imma gonna explain some characters in the ask blog (a small catagory of trap mice)

First with, the decimal traps/numbers.

Some extra traits are also:

They have a hard time communicating with words so the only words they say Is "squeak", still trap B tries to teach them.

Like stated in one of the posts of the ask blog, difference to a avarage trap mouse they're smaller and different

They behave less agresively but instead they're more hyperactive.

Now, Let's go on with malarm shall we?

Other traits in malarm are:

Despite being literally stappled to the high-wall, he keeps an eye if anything goes wrong.

Like trap mouse, he Isn't much of a talker. In fact, he's mute.

Whenever code 32-12 goes off, he emits a similar sound an megafone alarm would do.

He's a bit antipatic.

[thepersonalquotes]

I dont celebrate any friendship that was build on hate, because we share the common enemy.

De philosopher DJ Kyos

[happysaddca]

The poll ended with 7 folks saying they're chill with me posting nsfw so I'm making it @wyervan's problem now. :P

This is called "Moon Bites" in the google doc, and the CW is as follows: choking (mostly the aftermath of), biting (ofc), suicidal ideation, a touch of dubious consent that gets cleared up later, grinding/dry humping, shirtlessness. It's not full penetrative sex but I'm trying to be fairly comprehensive in my notes here.

Moon watches Ellis after. They're surprisingly normal despite everything. A turtleneck hides the bruising on their throat, and they lie about being sick to explain away their voice and change in wardrobe. They're completely and utterly themself, except for where they avoid Moon. 

Sun is the first to bring that up. “What did you do to Nova?” he asks, dropping a box of napkins into Moon’s arms. “I told them they needed to help restock with you and they looked ready to smack me with their broom. Even volunteered to clean the play structure on their own.” 

Moon doesn't immediately answer, instead freeing one arm to open the box. The feeling of Ellis’s neck against his palm is a white hot memory, the temptation of more mere feet away in the other room. They probably aren't wearing a choker under the turtleneck either. It would be just lovely brown flesh and 

And their lips against his. He nearly drops the box, Sun stepping in to catch. “Moon, what on earth is wrong?” 

There is no way Sun reacts well to this. Moon takes the box and sets it on a table, grabbing a napkin dispenser to keep his hands busy. He can see Sun from the corner of his eye. “I tried to choke Nova out,” he says, and, predictably, Sun draws up. “And they kissed me.” 

“What?” The word is a violent exhalation. Moon isn't surprised when Sun thumps a closed fist against his shoulder, hard. “What is the matter with you? You tried to kill an employee? The one who lives here?” The words come out in an angry whisper, and Sun hits Moon once more. “Are you trying to get us caught?”

Moon doesn't fight or avoid Sun’s blows, filling the dispenser even as his shoulder began to ache. It was a welcome distraction from the tingling in his fingers. “They kissed me,” he said slowly. 

“We already know Nova’s got brain damage!” That got a sharp look from Moon. Sun is drawn up like a snake ready to strike, his always wild hair somehow twice as voluminous as normal. His face is different though. Something like grief and fear is mixed with that anger, and expression Moon’s only seen a few times. Usually when Moon pushed against rules that defined Sun’s entire universe. Sun finds himself caught and looks away. 

“Do you like them?” came the question. Expected, though the tone was far too soft for Sun. 

“Don't know.” Moon slowly moves to the next table, fiddling with the dispenser til it pops open. “Liked… touching them. Might like kissing them too but they hit me with their bat right after and I left.” 

Sun laughs at that, and Moon’s grip on the dispenser slips. He catches his thumb on the metal, drawing blood. It's popped into his mouth, making Sun shake his head, taking over. “Gross. We have first aid kits. Multiple. Get a bandaid.” 

“Minute.” Moon drops his head into Sun’s hair, ignoring the way Sun tenses before continuing. There's no other touch, just the warmth from his scalp and the deceptive coarseness of the curls making his vision into a sea of orange. 

He can still taste the blood when they kissed. 

Sun talks. He doesn't know how not to, and Moon is good at blocking most of it out. There's no heartbeat in his head blocking it all out. Just memories. Want. 

“If you kill them,” Sun says, breaking Moon out of his daydream. He lifts his head slightly before sighing and dropping back down. 

“I think… I don't know. Need to talk to them.” Which is hard when they have managed to avoid him the past few days. 

Sun sighs and twists in place, freeing himself from Moon’s hold. Hands grip Moon's face, Sun looking him in the eye. “They will only hurt you. Everyone does remember? We only have each other.” 

Moon remembers. He doesn't reply. Sun holds him, waiting, wondering why Icarus doesn't have his voice inherent in their head but I keep writing setup and not actual so skip and come back later. 

After work, Moon debates waiting in Sue, but he's done that once already and Ellis hadn't come in for hours. Either they had moved to sleeping inside or they knew he would be waiting. And he couldn't risk it happening again. So he waited instead for Ellis to step behind the prize counter in the arcade to clean and pull expired candy, following behind. 

The door clicks, but they don't turn around. Their hearing aids must be on low. He doesn't want to scare them and risk them fighting. Moon looks around, knocking on the glass counter. 

That gets their attention and they spin in place, holding a handful of erasers like that could protect them. When they see Moon, they only tense more, looking immediately to his hands. “What do you want?” they ask. 

“Talk. Check on you.” Moon’s hands are out slightly, palms up. He can feel the fear from Ellis. It's a good fear, a righteous fear. 

“Oh you mean after you choked me?” They give a little laugh, slightly manic, and Moon can't help but smile. Do they know how like Sun they sound right now? 

“Yes. Does it hurt?” 

Ellis looks… confused by the question. Their hands are still full of erasers, so they can only gesture minutely lest they risk losing the barnyard animals to the abyss. “Yeah it still hurts. My voice is still—why did you do that Moon? Moon. Wait, stop.” 

Moon ignores the edge of panic in their voice, blocking Ellis in the corner so he can peel the turtleneck down and finally see. They twitch when he touches them, but they seem stuck holding the cheap prizes and Moon isn't going to overthink it. Mostly because the bruising is beautiful, deep purplish-black in the middle but starting to yellow out along the edges. Healing, letting him see the stages of recovery his victims don't usually go through. Moon presses a finger against the largest of the bruises, listens to Ellis draw in a quick breath. 

“Don't,” they whisper, voice catching on the edges. Moon doesn't. The urge to choke isn't strong, a residual desire to mark the soft brown skin of their throat once more mostly sated on finally seeing his handiwork. But there is a new urge, and Ellis is holding so very nicely still. 

He kisses their throat, feeling them jerk back in surprise and grabbing their shoulder before they can hit their head on one of the lower shelves. His lips trace over the bruising until he's found the most tender spot, and he bites, hearing them gasp, sinking down. Falling? He braces them with his arms, feeling multiple somethings, the erasers, hit his shoe. 

“Moon,” Ellis whispers and groans when he bites again, sucking against the mark. A hand grabs at his beanie, tugging it down, then his hair, pulling to get his attention. When Moon looks up, Ellis is crying. “What're you doing?” they ask. 

The tears are no good, no good at all, and he kisses them away, gentle except for the brush of sharpened teeth against their cheek. They're warm and solid in his arms and they're not fighting him. They want this? The hand in his hair clings as he avoids their mouth, kissing down their jaw to bite again. 

This time there's a moan, proper and small and that hand pulls hard, forcing some space for Ellis to look at Moon. There's still tears, but they're looking at his face properly, at his mouth, and they finally kiss him and he thinks he can taste blood again. 

He pulls at their turtleneck, but pulling it off means separating and there's no way he can manage that, not with their mouth still mashed awkwardly against his. They clearly don't know how to kiss, but that's okay because he does and he can guide them, nipping at their mouth with his teeth. He pushes his hands up their shirt, feeling their stomach tense and relax under his hands. They're solid under a soft layer of fat, and he can squeeze, leaving more bruises. Less deadly bruises as he helps Ellis open their mouth to him. 

They are extremely bad at kissing. But they are trying, and that pushes Moon more, hands slipping around and behind, scooping them up to push against the wall. Ellis gasps, grabbing at his shoulders. “Put me down, Moon, n—oh.” Their throat is bite level again, and he does, mutilating their neck until there's no sign of the choking from days ago. Only then does Moon slow down enough that Ellis can push him away. They're breathing hard, and the hand on Moon's chest doesn't move. He watches, waiting, pleased at the fresh marks on their throat. 

“Wh-what was that?” they ask. One hand moves to touch against their artery. It comes away wet with saliva and blood. “Moon?” 

They're frightened again, he realizes, and there's a deliciousness to that too. He wants to take them, to the couch, to their bed, pull that turtleneck off to mark them all the way down but. But but but it's hard to remember the reasons why to stop when they're right there. 

They needed to talk. To decide. But he wants to touch, to kiss, to press his hands deep and pull Ellis apart. The hand on his chest curls into his shirt, keeping him at a distance. He could touch them if he wanted. His arms are longer. 

Ellis is still breathing hard, a soft wheeze with every exhale, but the moment Moon moves, body twitching towards them, they shove him against the counter. “Stop,” they order, and he stares, wondering briefly if it's better with them in control. Ellis closes their eyes and steadies themself, letting go of Moon slowly. “Pick up the erasers asshole and. Come to Sue when you're done. To talk.” They take a step back, fixing the collar of their turtleneck, hiding the new bruises. “I can't believe you drew blood. How sharp are your teeth?” 

Moon grins, slow and lazy, in response. “The better to bite you with.” The eye roll was worth it, though the prize counter feels too big and empty with Ellis gone. Moon decides to leave the erasers, kicking a pig under the counter as he walks away. Sun can yell at him later for it. 

He can barely lock up, wanting to skip ahead. Instead, he retreats to the bathroom, washing his face with cold water, checking that he smells and looks semi-decent. There's lettuce in his teeth. He could kill Sun for letting him walk around like that. 

For once, Moon knocks at the door instead of letting himself in. It's quiet inside, but he can see Ellis's shadow before they open the door. They'd changed. A tanktop, showing off the bruising around their neck. No collar, no chest compression. Moon steps inside and Ellis backpedals. Still scared. Of him? 

Of course of him. 

“Moon.” They sound nearly normal. The smell of tobacco is thick, swirled around by a cool breeze. Moon sees a lit cigarette and a couple butts balanced on an ash tray on the counter, the emergency exit on the roof cracked open. Ellis follows his gaze, picking up the lit cigarette to inhale deeply. Smoke leaves through their nostrils before they finally exhale. “We need to talk.” 

Moon takes the cigarette for a drag. The menthol bites back, but he hides his surprise at the taste. Ellis is frowning, so he smiles. “It's rude not to share.” 

“It's gross is what it is.” 

“My tongue was in your mouth twenty minutes ago.” Moon’s smile grows as Ellis turns the most delightful shade of red. “Think you can share.” 

“Fine well.” Ellis steps back again, a hand going up to their neck before they flinch. A scrap of concern flits through Moon’s mind before he closes it off. “Why… why did you choke me? No touching til you answer.” Moon sees them move for the all too familiar shape of their bat. Of course they would have it. 

Moon is slow to respond, pretending to savor the last of this cigarette. “You know what I am.” 

“Kind of.” Moon expects Ellis to tiptoe around the subject. “You… you killed Helen. You said to protect me.” Silence. They swallow, flinch, and continue. “I get the feeling she's not the only person you've killed.” More silence. Moon finds himself staring at the mole under their eye, not wanting to see what Ellis is feeling. They can be so easy to read. “Do you want to kill me?” 

“No.” It's almost entirely true. Their mouth opens and he puts down what's left of the cigarette. “I… do not want to kill you. But.” He finds himself staring at their neck. 

“But,” Ellis echoes. They touch their neck, more gently. “Do you like seeing me like this?” 

Moon is slow to answer. “Yes.” His voice is soft. Ellis's fingers curl, hiding the bruising.  “But I like seeing you too. Just you. Don't know what it means.” 

Ellis's chin drops. They're clearly thinking about something when they step forward. Moon is blocked again, though it's an easy break if he wanted to leave. Ellis takes his hands, bringing it back to their throat. 

It burns, the skin raw from injury, and when Moon’s hand closes, Ellis flinches again.  They look up to Moon, watching his face. He wonders what they see. The killer, their employer, the nuisance that constantly breaks into their home to nap? He gives a soft squeeze before reaching up, pulling their glasses off and setting them aside. 

“Would it be bad if I asked for you to kill me? Not Sun. If I'm to die… I would rather it be by your hands.” 

Moon tucks his hand against their cheek, watching them lean into it. Could he really kill them? Maybe. Did he want to? 

He couldn't answer that. 

“Why?” 

Ellis leans into his space pulling him down to close the distance. Another kiss, their third one if he was keeping count. They're still terrible at it, but they're trying to keep it soft, and he allows it, letting Ellis pull him back and to the bed. He's made to sit, Ellis staring at him. 

“Because if it's you… I don't know. I've thought about dying a lot and at least if you're the one to do it… I know something's come of me.” They're standing in front of him, between his legs, not looking him in the eye once again.  

It's not a very good reason; Moon can acknowledge that much. But why would he look too deeply when Ellis is offering themselves to him this way. He holds up a hand, and they take it, needing help to climb into his lap. They sit against his arousal and freeze again. 

“Moon,” they say in a very small voice. “I've never…” 

“Easy enough to guess.” He holds their hand with one of his, the other sliding up their back. He finds the back of their head, bringing them down so both their foreheads touch. “You are horrible at it.” 

“Rude!” They push him down, and Moon drags them with him, laughing as he traps them against his chest. Kissing their hair, down over their eyes and back to their mouth. Terrible, terrible kisser, but they are heavy against him and it's too easy to press a leg between theirs, breaking their concentration. “Moon.” Another little moan, with Ellis grabbing back, hands curling in his hair. “We aren't done.” 

“Aren't we?” Despite their grip, Moon is able to move his head down nuzzling into their jaw. “Don't want to kill you but… it'll be me.” 

“You?” He nods into their skin. Ellis sighs before squeaking in surprise when his hand goes down to squeeze their ass. “Moon, please.” 

“Want to touch,” he replies, but he moves his hands up slowly. Tucking them under their shirt instead and grinning when they shiver. “Better?” 

“Worse. Your hands are cold.” They move to kiss him again. A little better. Moon closes his eyes, feeling his way up their back even as they open up to him. They taste strongly of menthol and tobacco, and he can smell only their cigarettes and shampoo. When they pull back again, he rolls them over, pinning them to the bed. 

Ellis stares up with wide eyes, and Moon swears he can feel their quick pulse in their wrist against the palm of his hand. It's tempting, and their neck is so lovingly exposed, as is plenty of unmarked dark skin just past their collarbones. Moon leans down and they kiss again, but he overwhelms, biting at their lips until they feel raw, his leg pushing between theirs again. The physicality overwhelms Ellis, and they whimper into Moon’s mouth. He eats up the sound, releasing their wrists to grab the hem of their shirt and pull up. 

It's too quick, and Ellis fights back, pushing at his face and shoulders and trying to work their legs up to shove him back. Moon uses the tank top to block their arms, tugging it over their face and dropping his hips against theirs. He grinds against them, the sharp point of pleasure amplified as he presses another kiss against the hollow of their throat, feeling Ellis squirm and moan his name. They are slow to pull the shirt off, more watching him as he continues to kiss down their sternum. 

“Moon.” Their voice is small again, the wheeze just behind their words. They struggle to sit up and Moon finds himself buried in the warmth of their chest. Hands pull on the back of his shirt and it's Moon’s turn to hesitate, not given the chance before his shirt and beanie have been tossed to the side, leaving his hair wild. Three fingers push at one shoulder. “Sit up.” 

Moon obeys, curious as Ellis pulls their legs under themself and wraps an arm over their chest. Hiding. He reaches out, but they shove his hand away. “No, it's my turn,” they say, and Moon drops his hand into his lap. They're staring at his chest, biting the inside of their lip so hard it's drawing the flesh inside, and Moon waits. Ellis seems frozen in place though. 

Right, they've never done this before. It's cute, in a small frightened creature sort of way, how they freeze up. But Moon wants to touch, to be touched, so he slowly reaches out again. Ellis starts to protest, but he only takes their free hand and returns it to his shoulder. 

“You won't break me,” he promises, and Ellis squeezes, holding tight. He wonders if this is too fast, if they need to be prompted to move, but they relax their grip, tracing the pattern of body hair over his chest, circling a nipple before skipping down to the lean line of his stomach. Their other arm drops so they can scoot closer, and Moon expects a kiss. Ellis tucks their head against Moon’s neck and there's a bite instead. 

Their teeth can't cause much damage on their own, but the pressure is sharp, and Moon moans softly, dropping his head back as Ellis pushes into his space. There's a hand in his hair again, pinning him in place, open to their continued worrying over his skin. The other is holding their balance against his upper arm. Ellis gnaws at the point where light becomes dark, testing the flexibility of his Adam's apple, and Moon can only hold onto himself, unsure if he likes this or wants to pin Ellis down and take control again. 

The answer seems to be both, thinking of pinning them down like a collected butterfly, free to use at his discretion. Movement against him refocuses his attention and he finds Ellis in his arms, his hands temptingly close to the button of their jeans. 

“No.” Ellis grabs at his arm when he pulls at their zipper, squeezing tight when he doesn't immediately stop. “No Moon it's—no. Wait. Please.” 

It's frustrating to stop. Moon knows he can overpower them, knows it'll be a fight. But he lets them back away, fixing their jeans and breathing deeply, and he mimics them. Calming down. He can feel his heart racing where they'd bitten down. It's tempting to touch, but he focuses on their hands instead, watching them flutter up and down in their own rhythm. 

And Ellis is watching him again, wary, but Moon holds still, letting them relax. He wants nothing more than to push past their limits and lose himself in them but the idea of watching Ellis heal too is a curious one. To stay long enough in place. But they would have to stay too. 

“Can I hold you?” That is new. Ellis hasn't pulled their shirt back on, but they hold their arms out in offering. 

Moon slides into their arms, Ellis pulling them both into the bed. His head rests on their shoulder, and he shifts to get comfortable, closing his eyes. Their chest is warm, their skin soft against his nose. This is nice. When Ellis wraps their arms around him, a hand in his hair, he sighs. The bite mark on his throat throbs. He needs to call Sun, to take care of the pressure in his pants, to figure out what they're both doing with this. 

But not right now. Right now, he's tucked against their chest, and there's a new weight as Eos jumps up to investigate what they're doing. Everything else can wait, just a little longer. 

[vanlavval]

[theotherwoman-emily]

~Good Characteristics~

What are good characteristics?

Morally Grey?

Naive?

Voting ended onJul 25, 2024

Abundant•Blunt•Generous•Polite•Affectionate•Gentle•Pretty

Altruistic•Good Friend•Protective•Ambitious•Good Leader•Quickthinker•Appreciative•Grateful•Rational•

Irrational •Athletic•Hardworking•Realistic•Aware•Helpful

Respectful•Brave•Honest•Responsible•Calm•Hopeful•

Self-Reliant•Candid•Humility•Self-Respect•Carefree

Humorous•Selfless•Caring•Independent•Serious•Cautious

Innocent•Sincere•Cheerful•Integrity•Smart•Compassionate

Kind•Social•Confident•Loving•Speaks their mind•

Cooperative•Loyal•Spirited•Courteous•Magnanimity•

Strong•Creative•Maternal•Strong-willed•Decisive•Mature

Supportive•Depenable•Modest•Sweet•Determined•Neat

Thoughtful•Devoted•Obedient•Tolerant•Disciplined•

Open-minded•Tough•Easy-Going•Optimistic•Trustworthy•

Enthusiastic•Organized•Understanding•Ethical•Passionate•

Unintimidated•Fair•Patient•Unpredictable•Faithful•Peaceful•

Unpretentious•Fearless•Perceptive•Vivacious•Focused•

Perseverant•Witty•Forgiving•Persuasive•Work-Oriented•

Youthful•Friendly•Pleasent