She   rolled   her   eyes,   but   couldn’t   fight   the   affectionate   smile.

[  …  ]  ❀  you’re  not  from  around  here  ,  are  you?  i  figured  because  you  totally  just  missed {  SIGNE  HOLSTRÖM  } walking  by.  don’t  tell  me  you  don’t  know  who {  SHE  }  is  ?  they  kind  of  look  like {  HAVANA  ROSE  LIU  }  and  i  could  be  wrong  but  i  think  that  they  might  be  {  24  }  years  old  right  now.  they’ve  been  living  in  palmview  for  the  last {  10  }.  and  i  don’t  know  if  anyone  has  ever  told  them  this  before  but  they  kind  of  remind  me  of {  SPENCER  HASTINGS  }  from {  PRETTY  LITTLE  LIARS  }.  if  you  stick  around  the  town  long  enough  you  might  catch  them  in  action  working  at {  PALMVIEW  FASHION  HOUSE  }  as  a {  STYLIST  }.  you  see  this  town  isn’t  really  that  big  of  a  place,  some  folks  like  to  call  them  the {  THE  MIRAGE  }  of  palmview!  they  took  a  liking  to  the  name  too  after  a  while,  go  figure.  oh  crap,  they  must  have  heard  me  yapping.  they’re  coming  this  way.  i  got  to  warn  you  though,  rumor  has  it  they  can  pretty  {  AVOIDANT  }  at  times.  i  wouldn’t  take  it  too  seriously  though,  from  the  times  i’ve  spoken  to  them  they  seemed  pretty {  AMBITIOUS  }  to  me.  we  see  each  other  all  the  time  since  they  live  in  that {  2  BEDROOM  }  apartment  beside  me  over  in {  MANGO  BAY  LOFTS  }.  i  better  leave  you  to  it.  it  was  nice  meeting  you!   {  KRYS.  32.  SHE/HER.  EST.  }

𝓲. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜

name: signe holmström [ pronounced sing-neh ] nickname(s): tba. age: twenty4 birthday: 06 october 2000 gender/pronouns: cis woman + she/her sexuality: pansexual occupation: stylist at palmview fashion house residence: mango bay lofts #4B time in palmview: ten years

𝓲𝓲. 𝚝𝚕𝚍𝚛

signe is the only child of søren and sigrid holmström, a warmhearted doctor and reserved art history professor, respectively. she was born in malmö, sweden, but has been living in palmview for the last ten years ( since she was fourteen ). she is a soft-spoken perfectionist with a deep love for fashion and a dream of one day becoming a designer. while she's always surrounded by an abundance of love, she tends to have doubts about whether or not she actually deserves to be where she is. she strives to be the ideal daughter, not because of any expectations her parents have placed on her, but simply because she understands how much they've sacrificed for her and she wants those sacrifices to have been worth it. she's just moved out of her parents home and is figuring out what it means to be on her own.

full bio here.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

🧵 childhood best friend - someone who has known signe since she arrived in palmview and has been by her side ever since 🧵 professional rivals 🧵 neighbors 🧵 roommate 🧵 former crushes/flings/exes 🧵 current crushes 🧵 college friends 🧵 work friends/coworkers 🧵 muse - a close friend (or rival!) who pushes signe to be bolder, weirder, and more herself creatively. 🧵 the mirror - someone who is also dealing with a legacy they're trying to live up to. they see a lot of similarities in each other and bond because of that. 🧵 the mentor - a senior person in fashion who takes signe under their wing

Jodi Anasta as Elly Conway & Zoe Cramond as Amy Williams NEIGHBOURS (1985 - ) Episode 7813 (2018)

Signe   startled   as   Adriana   erupted   on   the   other   side   of   the   table.   She   ducked   her   head   in   embarrassment,   her   cheeks   flushed   with   a   warmth   that   had   nothing   to   do   with   the   alcohol.   “You   are   too   much,”   she   said   with   a   laugh,   shaking   her   head   at   her   friend.   “I   know,   I   know…   I'm   honestly   glad   that   I   listened   to   you.”   Her   eyes   scanned   around   the   room,   lowering   her   voice   to   avoid   anyone   overhearing   even   though   no   one   was   really   paying   them   any   mind.   The   expression   on   Signe's   face   was   a   cross   between   something   shy   and   glowing.   “God,   I   am   such   a   goner.   I   stood   no   chance.   I   am   in   textbook,   no-way-out-that-man-smiles-and-my-brain-short-circuits   kind   of   trouble.”   At   her   friends   encouragement,   Signe   finished   her   drink   quickly,   leaning   in   on   the   table.   “Okay,   hit   me   with   your   questions   --and   don't   you   dare   climb   on   this   table   because   I   will   pretend   like   I   don't   know   you   and   walk   right   out.”

Adriana practically launched forward in her seat, both hands flying to her mouth as if physically holding back a scream. Her eyes went wide, then immediately narrowed in delighted suspicion as Signe spoke. As soon as the words “he stayed the night” landed, she let out a gasp that turned into a sharp squeal of laughter. "I KNEW IT! I told you to go to the store!" she whisper-shouted, grabbing her glass with both hands and clinking it a little too enthusiastically against Signe’s. "Oh my God, I might start dancing on this table. I’ve been waiting for this moment since you were, like, fifteen. The sparkly eyed gossip, the dreamy sighs, the soft smiles.. you’re doing all of it and I am so unwell."

She shook her head, her grin splitting even wider. "How much trouble are you in? So much. This is incredible. I’m going to need a full play-by-play. No—wait, finish your sangria first. I don’t want you choking when I inevitably start screaming again." Adriana giggled, kicking her feet beneath their table.

@anchorsfm

Driven (2018)

“…Then I’ll stretch, maybe sketch, take a climb… sew a dress!”

Signe   smiled   at   the   warmth   on   the   woman’s   expression   at   the   mention   of   her   aunt. “Made   of   lot   of   friendship   bracelets   in   your   time?” she   asked,   jokingly.    She   pondered   her   comparison   to   threading   a   needle   and   hummed   to   herself.   Her   eyes   followed   her   nimble   fingers   as   they   steadily   worked   on   the   knotted   mess. “I   guess   I   see   the   similarities,   even   if   my   fingers   haven’t   quite   grasped   it   yet.”

“i  have  my  aunt  to  thank  for  that,”  she  smiles  at  the  other  softly,  nails  hard  at  work  on  the  tangled  mess  of  string.  most  of  her  fond  memories  of  london  include  sitting  around  the  table,  beading  jewlery  with  her  aunt  and  cousin.  those  days,  though,  were  long  gone,  living  in  fleeting  moments  of  memory  yet  still  held  just  as  dear.  a  light  chuckle  at  her  joke,  looking  up  from  the  mess  for  only  a  second.  “isn't  string  just  plastic  thread  ?  once  you  figure  out  how  not  to  drop  it  every  five  seconds,  it's  basically  like  threading  a  needle  over  and  over  again.”

⇢ 🌸 STATUS ﹕ closed. ⇢ 🌸 TAGGING ﹕signe + sigrid!! (@ofelation) ⇢ 🌸 LOCATION ﹕ palmview university.

Signe   made   her   way   up   the   familiar   staircase   of   the   humanities   building   with   a   to-go   iced   coffee   in   one   hand   and   a   wax   paper   bag   in   the   other   containing   a   cinnamon   bun.   A   peace   offering,   if   she   was   being   honest   with   herself.   Signe   didn't   visit   her   mother's   office   often,   not   because   she   didn't   love   visiting   her   mom,   but   because   Sigrid   Holmström   was   a   consummate   professional.   The   girl   had   always   felt   guilty   about   disrupting   her   mother's   crisp,   orderly   and   polished   world   at   the   university.   Switching   the   coffee   to   her   other   hand,   she   knocked   twice   on   the   office   door   before   opening   it   without   waiting   for   a   reply.   “Professor   Holmström,”   Signe   began,   her   voice   full   of   playful   formality.   “I   come   bearing   caffeine   and   carbs.   And   maybe   a   bit   of   daughterly   guilt.   You   free   for   a   little   break?”

“Oh,   you’re   a   life   saver!”   she   grinned,   carefully   accepting   the   untangled   bracelet   back   like   it   might   somehow   tangle   itself   again   if   she   wasn’t   gentle   enough.  “Thank   you,”  Signe   said,   offering   him   a   polite   but   genuine   smile.  “I   owe   you   one   —   you   saved   me   from   a   pretty   public   meltdown   over   here.”   Signe   taped   one   end   of   her   friendship   bracelet   down   and   straightened   the   pattern   outline   that   she   had   been   following.   It   was   probably   a   bit   more   complicated   than   what   most   attempted   as   a   first   try,   but   she   also   figured   if   these   were   crafts   for   children,   surely   she   should   be   able   to   handle   a   slightly   more   complex   pattern.   Her   fingers   fiddled   with   the   threads   and   gave   him   a   side   glance. “You’re   not   wrong   about   us   being   our   own   worst   critics,”  Signe   tucked   her   hair   behind   her   ears.   She   had   a   lifetime   of   that   lesson   that   she   was   trying   to   undo.  “It’s   easier   to   show   other   people   grace   than   ourselves,   right?”   She   laughed,   quiet   but   sincere,   when   he   mentioned   keeping   his   crafts.  “I   think   that’s   actually   really   cool,   though,”   she   said   after   a   moment.  “Keeping   them   even   if   you’re   not   exactly   proud   of   them.   It’s   proof   that   you   at   least   tried,   right?”   The   thought   was   encouraging   enough   for   her   fingers   to   set   work   again   on   the   strings.   “So   you   do   this   sort   of   thing   often?”   she   asked,   gesturing   towards   the   bracelet   in   front   of   her.

"If that is true, I think I'm only doing slightly better." He said responded with a soft chuckle as he continued to work on the knot. Isaiah lifted his eyes from the bracelet in his hands for a moment to offer a warm smile, "It's no problem." His attention returned to his hands as he weighed how much to say. While he wasn't too hard on himself when it came to creative endeavors much as this, there were many other instances where he would hold himself to an unrealistic standard. "I've found it's a reminder we could all use from time. We're our harshest critics, right?"

Another chuckle came from him as he finally finished untangling the knot and handed it back to the other, "I tend to feel the same way whenever I go to any of the more creative free classes the community center sometimes offers. At this point, I'm surprised my apartment isn't overflowing with some mediocre crafts." As much as he'd like to, he never immediately chucked the failed craft in the garbage, feeling as if that might be rude to whoever was instructing the class. Even if he failed at the objective, he didn't want it to seem like he didn't appreciate the instructor's time.

A   small   smile   ghosted   across   her   lips   at   the   mental   image   he   painted.   “That   could   be   fun,”   she   said   with   a   slight   nod.   Her   fingers   fiddled   with   the   hem   of   her   sleeve   as   she   continued,   daring   to   playfully   tease   him.  “Football   fashion   disasters?   No   promises   I   won’t   laugh,   but   I   will   try   to   be   gentle.”   His   question   about   her   accent   surprised   her,   her   eyebrows   raising   slightly   as   his   guess   landed   rather   close.  “Good   ear!   I’m   Swedish   –   I   was   born   in   Malmö, just across the bridge  to   Denmark.”   No   matter   how   long   it   had   been   since   she’d   lived   in   that   beautiful   coastal   city,   it   would   always   be   home   in   her   heart.   The   place   where   her   parents’   love   story   truly   began.  “We   moved   here   when   I   was   fourteen.   Palmview   was…an   adjustment.”   She   let   out   a   short,   abrupt   laugh   –   almost   as   if   the   sound   escaped   her   before   she   could   fight   it.  “Well,   I   understand   you   just   fine.   No   subtitles   needed…yet   anyway.”   He   fell   into   step   beside   her,   and   his   nearness   was   noticeable   but   not   unwelcome.   Signe’s   gaze   dropped   for   a   moment   before   drifting   back   to   the   art   along   the   hall.   Her   hands   were   loosely   folded   in   front   of   her   as   they   walked.     “Fashion,”   she   echoed   with   a   nod.  “I   want   to…I   mean,   I think   I’d   like   to   have   my   own   line   one   day.   My   interests   are   all   over   the   place,   but   I   just   want   to   make   clothes   that   make   people   feel…warm–”  she   stopped   and   glanced   back   at   Charlie.   “I   mean,   not literally.   I   don’t   want   to   make   people   overheat,   I   just..  My   style   is   more   nostalgic,   like   a   happy   memory.”  Signe   felt   her   cheeks   heat,   and   her   words   slowed,   as   if   she   was   measuring   each   one.  “It   probably   sounds   silly.   But,   what   about   you?   Why   cooking?”

Charlie's eyes scanned Signe's face as she spoke about her fashion design. He nodded slowly along with her words, "No pressure. You don't have to show me." Charlie could almost see the way she'd changed her mind, "Well, I'd love that when you decide you're comfortable. I can show ya the things I used to wear as a footballer.. Maybe I'll make ya dinner and you can laugh at my poor fashion choices and I'll get tips from your mood boards" A laugh slipped easily from his lips, "Fashion at the time-.. No judgements, swear down. It was bad."

His eyebrows had scrunched together in curiosity, "Mind me askin' where you're from? I can hear the Scandinavian there, but can't place it." He shoved his hands into his pockets, his blue eyes locked on her. "Thanks for not judgin'. I've had people say I need subtitles." He joked playfully with a shake of his head.

Waiting for her response to his offer, Charlie shifted on his feet. He glanced back over at the painting they'd originally been looking over when she'd answered. She spoke so softly, he'd had to turn back and read her face to ensure she'd said yes. "Well.. Shall we?"

He'd taken a small step back to end up beside her, his hand hovering behind her back to begin their stroll. "So fashion, yeah?" His eyes scanned all the art around them as they walked together, "You got plans to have your own line? What's your dream?"