#commanderhermit

       gifts were not uncommon for the blonde. gifts         that mattered to her, not too many. she blinked at         the sight of the many offerings on her table, fingers         brushing against the card, reading the printed letters.

         her breath caught on her throat, and she stared up         at the male. settling the note on the table with utmost         care, and placed the flower crown on her head. ( who         cares if he thought they were messy, they were perfect )         the price tag on the scarf was so him, but she promises         herself that she’ll throw it away and won’t read the price.

         she took long strides over to zacharias, and engulfed         him in probably the most embarrassing mom manner         to ever mom, she swears, and squeezed. she chokes         out her words, teary and all mushy.

                     “zach, you beautiful person, you. god, this is                      literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever                      done for me ever. come here my son, let me                      coddle you into the end of time.”

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❤ - win my muse’s heart

It’s hard to say what Olive’s type is, but she’s generally attracted to people with opposite attributes— people who are talkative or spontaneous or sociable, can laugh at themselves, aren’t afraid to try new things. She’ll probably start to be fond of someone when they don’t make her feel weird or like an outsider, and try to include her in/show her things, or make the effort to explore what she’s into.

⁇ - get any information you want out of my muse

She’ll be forced to give up information when pressured— usually the highest intensity is if she feels like she’s going to be left alone or abandoned. Lower forms include interrogations, peer pressure, etc.

This was it. First day of high school in the-- she repressed a shudder-- city. Terrifying. But for the first time since she’d begun exploring the urban jungle, Olive was not lost. She knew exactly where her first class was, thanks to those new-student guides that greeted her at the entrance.

(She didn’t even have to say anything; they just took her schedule and gave her directions.)

Third door, left wing. She strode into the room-- er, shuffled into, rather, with both hands clutching the straps of her new knapsack. These kids were supposed to be her age? They looked so... old.

But there was a teacher, thankfully. (Or at least that’s what she thought he was.) Olive approached the man with calculated steps.

“Hi, uh, Sir. I just thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Olive Woodstock. A--Also, I’m new.”

                                “so, what are the chances of you                                  dancing with me in the rain?”

          Natusme had her arms full of medications that she had just picked up from the pharmacy. Going and get these meds, that were for her mother, was always a painful trip. One; because of the price. Two; because seeing how much her mother had to take made her sad. She was walking, looking over them all to make sure she had it all when she ran into someone, a bunch of the bags falling to the ground.

❝Why is it so hot outside.. Ugh, I want a latte..❞ He grumbled, eyes closed to avoid having the sun shine directly into them. While he realised that not paying attention to the road could be dangerous, he didn't expect to actually bump into someone.

{ ; Meme. }