#arturo & odelia.

[pocmuzings]

i miss my own characters so bad.

[girlablaze]

❛   i’m   not   in   love   with   you.  ❜ arturo to odelia yikes

SHIP  ANGST  MEME   /  accepting ! 

under  the  cut  bc  it  got  2  long  &  nobody  wants  my  rambly  FILTH  on  their  dash .  ok  love  u  !

                        there  are  very  few  truly  painful  sentences  that  can  be  said  to  a  person  ,  words  that  don’t  just  tug  at  the  heart  strings  ,  but  slice  them  away  completely  —  I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU  ?  now  ,  that  one  is  arguably  in  the  top  three  depending  on  who  you  ask  ,  but  there  really  is  nothing  like  the  feeling  of  the  unrequited  ,  nothing  like  being  told  you  aren’t  loved .  ❛  oh . ❜   she  tries  not  to  sound  so  wounded  ,  to  pull  that  arrow  out  without  bleeding  out  in  front  of  him  ,  but  this  is  odelia  rosenberg   :   every  affliction  she’s  collected  is  displayed  against  her  flesh  like  a  mosaic  —  every  reaction  ,  every  vulnerability  ,  every  broken - heartedness  is  just  another  shattered  piece  exposed  to  the  world  ,  a  reflectant  of  light  that  entices  others  closer  .  it’s  mirrored  against  her  features  how  she  really  feels  ,  how  that  made  her  feel   :   pale  hues  averted  ,  firmly  focused  on  something  beyond  his  figure  ,  as  she  silently  chews  the  inside  of  a  trembling  bottom  lip  ,  as  she  tries  to  think  up  a  reply  ,  and  tries  to  hold  back  several  others .  (  not  even  a  little  bit ?  not  even  at  all ?  couldn’t  you  at  least  try ? maybe  i don’t  care  if  you  don’t  love  me  ,  just  let  me  love  you .  )   ❛  is  that  it ?  —  nothing  else  to  say ?  ❜  one  last  chance  ,  just  one  more  ;  and  then  perhaps  another  ,  and  another  —  she  watches  him  ,  waits  for  a  take - back  ,  something  to  signal  a  crack to  that  mask  he  wears  so  well .  but  he  doesn’t  flinch  ,  never cowers .  this  is  how  it’s  always  been  ,  this  is  who  arturo  lopez  is  :  where  she  is  all  exposed  warmth  ,  he  is  a  cold  block  of  nonchalance  —  and  she  doesn’t  know  what’s  worse  ,  that  he  doesn’t  feel  her  love  or  he  doesn’t  feel  her  pain .

arms  are  hugged  tight  to  her  stomach  &  she  takes  a  step  back  ,  and  then  another  ,  and  then  one  more  :  I’M  NOT  IN  LOVE  WITH  YOU  —  yes  ,  that  hurt  .  he  might  not  understand  it  ,  might  deny  what  she  feels  to  be  true  (  he  is  nothing  but  an  infatuation  ,   a  school  -  girl  crush  ;  one  person  in  a  crowd  of  people  who  found  her  in  a  lonely  corner  —  did  she  get  that  right ?  )  but  his  name  is  so  deeply  carved  into  her  being  that  it  feels  like  pulling  glass  from  an  open  wound  ,  although  :   what  did  she  expect ?  why  is  she  so  surprised ?  she  can’t  circle  a  flame  and  then  cry  when  she’s  burned  ,  not  with  a  paper - heart  like  her  own  ,  not  with  a  firestorm  like  his  ,  not  when  she  ignored  every  warning .  she’s  hurt  ,  a  little  ashamed  ,  but  not  angry  ,  never  angry —  this  is  just  honesty  :   even  though  ,  honest  hurts .  even  though  ,  honest  feels  like  razor - blades  &  slices  straight  to  the  bone   ;  but  it’s  more  humane  ,  a  quicker  death  than  hopefulness ,  quicker  than  forever  waiting  for  those  three  words  in  a  hollowed  out  silence .  (  she  wants  to  ask  if  it  could  have  ever  been  a  possibility  ,  wants  to  know  if  he  ever  felt  any  sort  of  tenderness for  her  ,  anything  in  the  slightest  ,  because  she  thought  there  were  moments  ,  just  small   ones  ,  where  he  looked  at  her  differently  ,  touched  her  differently .  she  thought  there  were  moments  ,  just  small ones  ,  where  he  might  have  loved  her  back .  )   she  has  to  hold  her  breath  to  keep  all  that  from  spilling  out  ,  to  keep  her  voice  steady  as  she  begins  to  answer  ,  as  she  turns  to  leave .   ❛  thank  you  for  .  .  .   thank  you  for  being  honest  with  me  atleast .  ❜   and i’m  sorry  ,  because  i’m  in  love  with  you .  

[arcadianiisms]

tag dump !!!

❛ muse. character name ❜

❛ thread. character name ❜

❛ visage. character name ❜

❛ music. character name ❜   

❛ opposite. opps name ❜

[museolympus]

tag dump 2 ! !

[bittersglory]

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫  𝐟𝐨𝐫  @hvrtbroken​    /    ft.  arturo  lopez  !  

                               you  need  to  be  more  than  the  TENDER  HEART  you  are  ――   she  recalls  very  few  moments  where  parents  acted  like  actual  parents  &  offered  solace  or  embrace  ,  but  that  one  stuck  :  where  mother  ,  in  the  very  few  moments  she  nursed  sobriety  ,  pointed   at  her  youngest  &  said  :  that  heart  of  yours  is  going  to  suffocate  you  one  day  ,  best  to  kill  the  softness  now  &  save  the  ache  later .  at  the  time  ,  odelia  thought  it  to  be  a  compliment  ―  how  can  being  kind  -  being  so  unlike  them  in  every  possible  way  -  ever  be  considered  terrible ?  it’s  not  a  failure  ,  it’s  an  accomplishment .  you  fight  and  fight  to  dig  out  the  roots  &  tear  at  the  branches  holding  you  to  that  family  tree  filled  with  HOLLOWNESS  and  rot   -  you  spend  half  your  life  begging  for  sunlight  in  a  windowless  room  ,  and  the  other  trying  to  prove  your  worthiness .  it’s  not  a  failure  ,  it’s  an  ACCOMPLISHMENT  :  to  walk  away  with  your  head  raised  high  &  your  heart  beating  in  the  right  rhythm  ――   she  moves  to  west  ham  to  be  different  ,  to  prove  she  is  more  than  the  rugged  family  she  was  born  into .  she  becomes  the  PRISTINE  ,  untouched  ,  harmless  girl  painted  into  a  yellow - gold  halo  of  warmth .  (   look  closer  and  you’ll  find  the  colours  smudged  ,  you’ll  see  fingerprints  and  scratches  ,  and  the  way  it’s  been  torn  at  the  edges  -  a  forgery  in  an  adorned  frame .  )   it  takes  years  for  odelia  to  realise  it  was  true  -  her  weakness  is  a  heart  that  never  stops  pouring  ,  her  very  own  anchor  dragging  her  deeper  ――   it  takes  a  boy  built  from  match - sticks  and  gasoline  to  learn  maybe  mama  knew  best .  

                              she  still  cares  though  -   always  caring  ;  like  the  way  she  volunteers  for  kitchen  duty  four  days  of  the  week  despite  HATING  it  ,  or  the  way  she  plays  mediator  between  brewing  rivalries  at  the  slightest  sign  of  agitation .  the  truth  is  :  she  does  not  favour  battlefields  or  clenched  fists   ――   she  has  tried  :  to  keep  her  head  down  ,  cradle  blissful  ignorance .  she  has  tried  :  to  be  distance  itself  ,  surrounded  by  stone  walls  that  not  even  an  army  could  crumble .  she  has  tried  ,  but  she  is  still  palms  wide  open  ,  a  sensitive  bruise  begging  to  be  pressed   ――   even  now  ,  she  is  trying  not  to  notice  the  change  in  the  air  current  ,  the   slightest  rise  in  degree  signalling  heated  tension .  (  don’t  interfere  ,  don’t  interfere ,  don’t  interfere .  )  even  now  ,  she  is  trying  to  ignore  the  way  the  voices  laced  with  irritation  prick  at  her  ears  ,  the  way  she  catches  sharper  movements  from  the  corner  of  her  eye .  (  a  corner  -  may  she  add  -  she  has  actively  tried  to  dodge  in  the  very  instance  he  catches  her  eye  ―  not  because  she  doesn’t  want  to  ,  but  because  she  won’t  look  away  if  he  does  ,  and  she’s  atleast  trying  to  demonstrate  some  restraint  when  it  comes  to  that  boy .  )   even  now  ,  when  uneasiness  blossoms  in  her  chest  at  who  it  all  connects  to  ―  of  course  she  notices  it  ,  when  it  comes  to  ARTURO  LOPEZ  she  notices  every  little  thing  -  his  presence  in  a  room  will  forever  scream  louder  than  anyone  elses  ――  he  can  handle  himself  ,  he  can  give  as  easily  as  he  can  take  in  the  face  of  intimidation ,  she  knows  that  ,  but  .  .  TURNS  OUT  odelia  still  can’t  look  away  -  not  even  if  she  clenched  her  eyes  tight  enough  to  see  stars .  not  even  if  she  counted  every  moment  he  caused  an  audible  crack  within  her  chest  &  let  that  remind  her  of  every  reason  he  is  wrong  ――  even  then  ,  she  still  can’t  bear  the  thought  of  seeing  him  in  harm's  way .

                                 don’t  interfere  ,  don’t  interfere  ,  don’t  ―  never mind .   ❛  hi .  ❜  she  stands  feet  rooted  in  the  soil  -  SWITZERLAND  between  two  hostile  empires  ,  girl  waving  the  white  flag  whether  it  was  asked  of  her  or  not .  a  civil  smile  plays  at  her  features  as  she  glances  between  them  -  two  somewhat  familiar  faces  ,  but  only  one  that  makes  her  pulse  race .  ❛  sorry  for  interrupting  ―  ❜   a  pause  ,  and  she  hopes  that  is  enough  to  suffocate  the  flames  that  were  building  ,  instead  of  fanning  them  into  a  wildfire .   ❛  ―  they  want  a  couple  of  volunteers  to  go  through  some  of  the  houses  on  centennial  drive  -  something  about  scavenging  supplies  ,  BUT  here’s  the  thing . . .   ❜   she  takes  a  moment  to  look  over  her  shoulder  towards  town  hall   &  then  back  again  ,  an  exasperated  (  and  slightly  exaggerated  -  slightly .  )  sigh  falling  from  her  lips .  ❛  everyone  already  left  and  i  really  -  really -  would  be  more  comfortable  having  an  extra  pair  of  hands .  ❜   sure  ,  she’ll  go  with  that  -  it’s  a  HALF  -  TRUTH  atleast  ―  she  assigns  herself  as  helper  in  a  ghost  town  filled  with  rebelling  youth  ,  but  she  would  never  ask  for  aid  if  she  could  help  it  ――  contrary  to  popular  belief  ,  she  is  not  weak  ,  weaker ,  WEAKEST  ;  but  that  is  a  card  she’ll  play  if  it  means  distraction  ,  diversion .  (  ODELIA  ROSENBERG  :   pristine  ,  untouched  ,  helpless  ―  but  OH  ,  if  only  they  knew  the  types  of  places  she  called  home .  )   ❛  it’ll  only  be  like  .  .  .  an  hour  of  your  time  ,  promise .  ❜   pale  hues  flicker  between  the  two  figures  ,  waiting  for  a  crack   -  a  surrender  -  before  coming  to  settle  on  his  own  ,  palm  rising  to  rest  against  his  shoulder  -  fighting  the  urge  to  instinctively  press  deeper .  there’s  poorly  hidden  CONCERN  there  too  ,  flashing  neon  across  a  billboard  sign  :  please .  ❛  ―  what  do  you  say ,  art  ?  if  you’re  not  busy  that  is .  ❜

[londonrphs]

character: P R O S P E R   M I L O S   R A F F A

the first raffa heir, twins with darien, concert pianist - thirty

pompous asshole, complete dom in life, born in detroit, half raised in dt and the family home in italy

relinquished official position to joseph though he bares the line, lianne’s husband, father to arturo, odelia, and vincent

accident survivor, world traveller, sharp as a wit, gorgeous italian 

for more character aesthetics ; for ship aesthetics

[pocmuzings]

❛ i don’t want anyone else but you. ❜ & ❛ you always pretend you don’t care but i know you do. ❜ . . . as a treat

❛ i don’t want anyone else but you. ❜

arturo lifts odelia’s chin. he forgets, sometimes, how much tinier she is than him (sometimes he feels like he has to bend in half, just to meet her mouth, or push her against the nearest surface and slide his hands over her body). her words aren’t anything new, but they make him disgusted every time. what is wrong with her? how can she possibly think he would ever be good enough for her? how can she come back to him, over and over, when he is nothing but a monstrosity, and a monstrosity that revels in that fact? “— then you’re even stupider then i thought, o.” he doesn’t know, anymore, what he can say to make her leave. he doesn’t know if he wants her to leave. he doesn’t. he does. he can’t make up his mind. he pushes her chin away. “get away from me. once and for all. jesus christ, o, how much of my SHIT can you put up with? i’m not fucking worth it . ”

❛ you always pretend you don’t care but i know you do. ❜

arturo clenches his jaw. his eyes close briefly, just so he doesn’t have to look at her porcelain skin. she’s so BEAUTIFUL. it doesn’t matter what room they’re in, or what mood he’s in- arturo’s eyes always find her. even in the dark, he could pin her down perfectly. he knows her, in ways that he shouldn’t. (in ways that are r rated— and he soaks in that, too). “i don’t.” he allows the words to breathe out of his mouth, silky and smooth. confident and wrong. his chest shudders as soon as he lies. “you live in this stupid, god damn fairy-tale world, where the bad guy is redeemed in the end. but i’m NOT fuckin’ redeemable, o.” and he can admit that. he knows he’s the poison, and the rot, which has infiltrated the growing garden that is odelia rosenberg. “so what if i care about you? you think we’re gonna live happily every after? you think i’m gonna be this good guy for you all of a sudden? you think i can change for you?” he scoffs, a harsh laugh leaving him. he ignores the stinging vulnerable feeling he has, over admitting he cares about her. “i care for you enough to tell you that you need to move the fuck on.” 

[girlablaze]

‘ aw, did i hurt your wittle feelings? ’ u know who it is :))))

PICK A FIGHT MEME.    /    * accepting !

                                          is that his aim  ?  she thinks she can almost sense an eagerness in his tone that suggests that it is  :  to start something  ,  to drive her away  ,  to take aim the second he sees the weakness seeping into view. he seems to have a ravenous appetite for it  ,  no matter how hard she tries to keep that picturesque portrait of the two of them  ,  it always eventually leads to this :  the sound of glass cracking  ,  a thousand shattered pieces of a pipe dream collecting between her fingers with the hiss of a single sentence.  DID YOU REALLY THINK WHAT WE HAD WAS ANYTHING SPECIAL TO ME ?  she can’t say she’s surprised  ,  she should be used to that oh so familiar feeling seeping into her chest  :  a mixture of disappointment  &  anguish that simmers into a night filled with a heavy heart  &  saltiness staining her cheeks  ━  but there’s something irksome lingering there too  ,  it feels like a clawing against the inside of her rib-cage  ,  and that must mean he’s finally been successful in his attempts to antagonize her.  ❛  yeah  ━  yeah  ,  you did ━  but that’s just what you always do. ❜   words bitter  ,  sharp  ,  &  without pause  ;  no point in beating around the bush about it. he’s already seen it  (  it’s hard to hide  ,  she carries a mirror of hurt in those bambi eyes.  )  she feels it  ,  and denying it will only extend it’s lifespan more than she would like it to.  but that’s where that heat ends  ,  because odelia rosenberg is acquiescent  ,  submissive ,  and her anger isn’t much like the usual kind  ;  it isn’t an uncontrollable wildfire.  it’s something not easily sparked but easily smothered. the only evidence of it’s brief existence lies in a few moon - shaped crescents embedded in her palms  &  a tone that suggested less vexed girl next door  ,  and more scolding mother hen.  ❛  god  , is it possible for you not to be a complete dick for a change ? or is that too much effort on your behalf ?  ❜  

[girlablaze]

HURT  MEME  .

for  @pocmuzings​ !  i  simply  shan’t  tolerate  tumblr’s  Dumb  ask  formatting  so  here  we  ARE .  also  trigger  warnings  for   :   violence  mention  ,  injury  /  bruise  !

fingertips  press  against  her  cheekbone  &  she  winches  frowns  at  the  tenderness  she  finds  there  :  like  bruises  against  rotten  fruit  ,  sinking  deeper   &   deeper  into  the  flesh   ━   the  skin  there  has  reddened  already  ,  raw  &  angry  against  fair  skin  ,  and oh  so  blatantly  obvious  beneath  a  scrape  that  has  already  dried .  it’ll  swell  ,  and  it’ll  bruise ,  and  people  will  stare  &  wonder  :  what  has  odelia  rosenberg  gotten  herself  into  this  time ?  the  girl  who  attracts  trouble  like  stray  moths  to  a  flame  ,  the  girl  who  can’t  help  but  try  to  fix  things  that  aren’t  hers  to  fix  ,  the  girl  who  is  always  pulling  away  with  bite  marks  &  scars   ━   it  looks  WORSE  than  it  felt  at  the  time  ,  than  what  actually  happened  :  too  much  testosterone  in  too  small  a  space  ,  and  odelia  in  the  middle  ,  trying  to  prevent  a  battle  before  they  had  swung  the  first  sword  ;  she’s  clipped  by  an  elbow  poised  to  deliver  a  blow  &  loses  a  fight  against  a  coffee  table  in  the  midst  of  the  tussle  ,  in  the  midst  of  her  attempts  to  play - pretend  saviour   ━   it’s  not  like  she’s  never  taken  a  punch  ,  or  the  back - end  of  one .  contrary  to  many’s  belief  ,  she  is  not  something  ornamental  &  untouched  :  she’s  also  the  girl  raised  in  the  slums  between  siblings  who  thought  a  clenched  fist  provided  better  outcomes  than  spoken  words  or  grand  gestures   ━   rosenberg  family  mantra  was  this  :  if  you  don’t  rise  your  fists  ,  you’ll  just  take  the  hit .  and  there  is  no  room  for  grace  or  clemency  or kindness  ,  and  the  world  will  not  thank  you  for  trying  to  place  bandages  over  bullet  holes  or  duct - tape  over  clean  breaks .   ( and  maybe  ,  just  maybe  ,  she  was  beginning  to  see  truth  to  that .  afterall  ,  she  seems  to  always  be  turning  away  with  some  sort  of  affliction  :  either  on  the  exterior  or  the  interior  ━   odelia  rosenberg  is  always  hurting .  )  

in  the  mirrored  reflection  of  her  phone  screen  she  adjusts  her  hair  to  hide  it  beneath  a  curtain  of  blonde  ,  but  she’s  sure  beneath  the  neon  laser  lights   &   thump  ,  thump  ,  thump  of  bodies  grinding  to  the  tunes  of  LIKE  A  G6  no  one  is  going  to  notice  ,  least  of  all  him   ━   because  he  doesn’t  care  ,  he’s  not  in  love  with  her  ,  and  he  doesn’t  care .  so  why  is  he  here  now ?  suddenly  there  ,  fingers  pressing  into  her  jaw  to  examine  the  damage  &  fingers  brushing  away  any  attempts  at  concealment .  there  and  suddenly  she’s  hyper - aware  of  everything  :  she’s  aware  of  the  closeness  ,  she’s  aware  of  the  way  her  skin  burns  beneath  his  finger - tips  ,  she’s  aware  of  the  weakness  in  her  knees   ━   and  she’s  very  much  aware  of  how  he  just  ruined  all  her  progress  in  moving  on  ,  with  a  single  touch   ,  again .  ❛  no  one  ,  it  was   ━   it  was  an  accident .  ❜   she  tries  not  to  let  the  uneasiness  show  ,  she  tries  to  remind  herself  to  breath  .  odelia  is  not  one  to  hold  grudges  ,  therefor  she  decides  it’s  best  not  to  point  fingers  or  name  names  ;  especially  -   especially  -   when  she  meets  his  gaze  and  finds  concern  there  ,  just  lightly  scattered  beneath  a  rippled  surface  ,  but  still  there .  she’s  never  seen  concern  there  before  ,  she  doesn’t  know  what  his  concern  looks  like  ,  but  she’s  got  a  hunch  it’s  not  the  pretty  kind .  ❛  don’t  start  anything  ,  art  ,  please ?  ❜  her  palm  comes  to  rest  against  his  ,  still  idle  against  her  jaw  ,  fingers  tracing  half - moons  across  his  knuckles   :   light  ,  delicate  &  and  hopefully  alleviating   ━   arturo  is  not  one  to  be  handled  with  a  softness  ,  but  she’ll  try  anyway   :   attempt  to  coax  stillness  from  his  shell  ,  attempt  to  smooth  out  any  edges  of  harshness  before  they  appear .   (  turns  out   :   she  never  learns  her  lesson .  doesn’t  matter  if  she  takes  a  bruise  or  a  broken  heart   ━   she’ll  try  ,  she’ll  always  try .  )       

pain  is  inconsistent  &  contradictory  ,  she’s  discovered  :   you  often  forget  about  such  things  as  paper - cuts  or  bitten  tongues  when  you’re  met  with  something  more  painful  in  comparison .  right  now  ?  she  can  hardly  feel  the  light  throb  across  her  cheek - bone   ━   this  will  always  be  bittersweet  to  her  :  the  way  she  wishes  chemistry  &  compatibility  were  the  same  thing  instead  of  two  opposites  on  a  scale .  she  could  say  ‘  hey  ,  at  least  we  can  be  FRIENDS . ’  like  every  other  fleeting  romance  that  faded  out  before  it’s  prime  ━   but  that  won’t  work  either .  (  she  is  too  much  herself  and  he’s  too  much  himself   ;  together  they  only  know  how  to  tolerate  in  extremities  :  always  a  roaring  tornado  ,  and  never  a  soft  summer  breeze .  )   it’s  that  pang  of  sadness  that  urges  her  to  drop  her  arm  &  shake  free  from  his  touch  with  a  strained  and  awkward  exhale  of  laughter   ;   because  it  doesn’t  matter  how  many  times  she  fights  the  urge  to  call  ,  or  how  many  times  she  convinces  herself  she  has  moved  on  from  the  walking  pandemonium  that  is  arturo  lopez   ━   she’ll  always  wait  ,  and  ponder  the ‘  what  -  ifs ’  and  if  given  the  option  :  she’ll  choose him  again  and  again  until  she  has  nothing  burn  torn  up  insides .  (   how  could  her  own  heart  be  so  cruel  to  her ?  )  ❛  just  .  .  .  don’t  worry  about  it .  ❜   pale  hues  are  already  searching  the  crowds  for  a  familiar  face  ,  like  gwen  or  adam  ,  someone  to  provide  an  excuse  ,  someone  to  save  her  from  herself  ,  because  suddenly  the  room  is  suddenly  too  small  and  the  neon  laser  lights  are  too  distracting  and  the  terrible  music  is  too  loud  ,  and  it’s  not  because  of  the  tenderness  flowering  on  her  cheek   ━   she  attempts  nonchalance  ,  attempts  coolness  ,  makes  a  gesture  of  flexing  an  arm  in  an  attempt  at  some  weak  humor .  (  and  she  wants  to  hate  him  ,  she  does  ,  but  the  truth  of  it  all  is  this  :  even  now  ,  her  body  feels  alight  with  endearment  for  arturo  lopez  ,  and  turns  out  she  can’t  even  muster  hatred  for  the  boy  who  keeps  breaking  her  heart .  )  ❛  honestly  you  should  see  the  other  gu   ━    person .  i’m  a  big  girl  ,  i  can  take  care  of  myself .  ❜  

[girlablaze]

📞 arturo odelia lets go

FINAL MESSAGE TO YOUR MUSE.    /    * accepting !

(   my muse is going to walk into a certain death. send a symbol for their final message to your muse !   )   

                                                ❛  i know  ,  i know ,  this really is the last time i’ll call  ,  i promise. i’m just feeling really ━  ❜   scared ,  lost ,  all of the above ?  she’ll be honest  ,  in the most brutally honest way that she can be  :  she doesn’t quite understand herself when she makes the decision to call him ━  when anguish tears up her insides  &  she’s seeking some form of comfort.   (  he could act as a DISTRACTION  ,  sure  ,  but a saviour complex is far from his radar.  )  and yet  ,  HERE SHE WAS  :  wanting no - one but him  ,  wanting to hear no - one else’s voice but his  ,  and if he was standing right in front of her  ,  she would run into no - one else’ arms but his.  (  maybe deep down he might care for her too  ,  in his own way.  not enough to save her from the agony of her own heart  ,  but enough to be half - way satisfied.  ) part of her is thankful he doesn’t pick up  ,  thankful all she hears is the voicemail greeting instead of the real thing  (  something about being too fucking busy or to call back never. )  because her chest feels so hollow  ,  so hollow  ;  the weight of wanting to talk to him one last time is enough to make her ribcage begin to bow &  splinter  ,  but honesty is best spoken to an empty line  ,  words that won’t meet another’s ear  ,  just yet  ━  she sighs  ,  a low  &  tiresome sound that is drained of the usual warmth odelia is known for.  ❛  you know  ,  you pushed me away so many times  ,  and i don’t think anyone has ever  .  .  . confused me as much as you did  ,  but  ━  i wouldn’t have taken any of it back.  i don’t regret ever meeting you.  ❜   how could she ? odelia has never thought poorly about anyone  ,  least of all him.  even with every disappointment  ,  every feeling of broken heartedness  (  she never knew a love could have such sharp teeth  ,  but she can’t say she wasn’t warned.  )  she could never  ,  ever  ,  find hate in her heart for arturo lopez.  ❛  and i’m sorry for caring so much  ,  but i guess you just failed at being completely unlovable jerk  ,  so  ━  screw you for making me fall for you  ,  art.  ❜   the cruelest of crimes  ,  she’s decided  ,  but there’s nothing more to be said  ,  and you’ll only hear a shuffle of movement before the line fades into a dead silence.

[pocmuzings]

‘ you’re leaving. right now. ’ art x odelia 👀

the smirk on his face is ever present as he looks over to the smaller girl, and the way she crosses her arms over her chest. she sounds definitive. final. it’s what makes him close in on her, each step careful as he pads closer to her. “leaving to where?” arturo asks, cocking an eyebrow up to odelia and grinning as he takes a step closer. his chest bumps against her own, his head ducking down, nose brushing but not q u i t e touching. he doesn’t touch her. his hands want to go to her waist, to swoop her in closer- because she’s oxygen, and he’s a breathless, dying man… but he doesn’t. because he knows SHE will. she will touch, and grab at him, because she always does, when he pushes her buttons well enough. “where do you want me to go, o? huh?” he’s slowly lowering his face more, breath ghosting over her porcelain skin. she’s so supple and warm. she radiates good, and love, and everything that arturo’s rotten heart could never deserve. his bottom lip grazes against her cheek, and drags along it, just slightly, before he’s pressing her back, against a wall, with his own body. his hands stay dutifully by his side, but his hips and the rest of him are good (and trained), at keeping her where he wants her to be. his mouth drifts to the lobe of her ear, hot air following his words: “where would you like me to go?” he repeats.

[pocmuzings]

◈ ♣️ ✮ ( iloveu )

◈  ━ share some headcanons that you have for a muse of your choosing

because it’s nae i’ll give u some that are relevant . 

arturo lopez : sleeps on the same side of the bed everytime and is weirdly pedantic about it . also has other strange Specific things that he likes and needs , such as specific beer or specific type of tobacco . he’s strangely picky about some things , for somebody who always seems to not care about anything . has extremely rough hands , they’re always covered in bruises or dirt or callouses because he likes to strum a guitar or bash drums when he’s bored ( he likes anything that makes excessive and disruptive noise ) . has a very specific grin when he’s flirting . one side of his mouth flicks up and that’s his telltale sign when he likes someone or is into someone ( also a constant smile / smirk around odelia ) . runs his hands through his hair about three thousand times a day , so it’s always fluffy or looking messy . has a large array of long / oversized shirts with random holes in them . 

sasha lane : used to force herself to stay awake in her shared bedroom with eugene at night and watch over him when he was sleeping ( she was always scared their mum would come in and do something , or her boyfriend of the week ) . constantly changing her hair and her braids , she never likes keeping it the same way for more than a couple of weeks . always wears a torn pair of jeans . literally always . constantly has her earphones in a terrible knot or tangled up . gets way too frustrated and impatient with trying to sort them out or straighten it up . the longest she’s ever worked anywhere is in a laundromat , and that’s because nobody ever came in so she didn’t have to deal with people  . always sits near an exit , in case she needs to make a fast and quick escape . 

♣ ━ share five random facts about yourself

 im SO uninteresting omg . umm okay . 

1 ) im left handed and smudge my handwriting constantly . my writing is terrible in general, but ive been trying to practice more so its legible 

2 ) im the only girl , with two older brothers . when i was younger i really thought i was ginny weasley . turns out i am moaning myrtle , at best. 

3 ) i have nine tattoos . they’re all v small , but my favourite is the sunset i have on my arm , and the diamond  . they don’t really mean anything but they’re cute

4 ) i got a new job finally ! now working in risk , finance and event coordination . really wild and new and weird . not super interesting but thats all i could think of

5 ) i used to have an insanely heavy mary kate and ashley obsession . like VERY heavy . i wanted to be them . wanted to dress like them . used to copy their outfits . read ALL of their many many times  .. watched so . . mary kate and ashley like 50000 times . 

✮ ━ top three favorite muses that you’ve played

again IMPOSSIBLE to decide but here we go . i will always always have a soft spot for mali chusuk . i’ve never been able to play her anywhere but one day i will . she was a lil tomboy idiot buffoon . super bi and didn’t realise it , so big gulp . also , just wanted to learn how to be a bit more  ‘ girly ‘ and  ‘ feminine  ‘. chewed with her mouth open and belched very loudly .

jeremy washington . the original himbo . an absolute IDIOT and i loved him so so much . he had such a good heart but my god . . he had not one brain cell . he didn’t understand anything , ever , and we loved that for him . tried his best but also just had his foot in his mouth constantly . 

kingsley tau . my conspiracy theorist boy . how can i ever forget him ? literally he was so kooky and wild , and he always spoke in code . also , he was Constantly High and thought he was mr robot ( he was a good hacker , though ) . kinda just watched everyone and laughed and said ‘ damn , white people really are something .’ 

[girlablaze]

4, 11, 18!

MUN ASK MEME.     /     accepting.

4.   what about your 5 favorite muses ?

answered here !

11.   can you tell us about your favorite ship ?

ship ? u must mean SHIPS. i’ve collected  &  fallen in love with so many ships over the years  ,  both romantic and platonic  ,  i.  .  .  couldn’t just choose one  :  

arabella x avery  :  this one was one of my first ships in the rpc  &  even though they’re no longer active ,  they’re still my fav set of fools .  they’re both from completely different worlds  ,  and even though they really know how to make the other hurt  ,  they really do love the heck outta’ each other …  sometimes .  like 62 % of the time for sure .  

briar x theo  :  the longest slow burn ship in fucking history  ,  i say .  they’re the unlikely friends ?? that just have so much respect  &  understanding for each other ?? but at the same time  .  .  .  the sexual tension  ,  phew ! i MISS THEM .  

arturo x odelia  :  my Newest ship that i .  .  .  can’t get ENOUGH OF .  they’re complete opposites  ,  arturo is that Bad Boy  &  odelia is the goody goody lovesick puppy  ,  but they’ve formed a fondness for each other .  they just kno how to get to each other’s hearts  ,  even if most of the time it’s in a negative way  ,  but i just really have so much fun writing with these two ??

delilah x noah  :  this one is more platonic but i love them Sm that i’m including them ! they’re just the Purest  &  softest duo u’ll ever meet  ;  delilah truly loves noah 2 DEATH  ,  and he’s just her peaceful place .  he’s a stable person she can always rely on  &  vice versa .  they’re just so CUTE  ,  thanks for coming to my ted talk .  

18.   what is your favorite plot you’ve played out ?

i’ve never really played out a specific canon plot or anything ??  but i’ve got some plots that i’ve just fallen in love w/ and the first one that pops to mind is  :  i had this plot with my best pal aubrie once where our muses were in a zombie apocalypse au ━  they were each other’s firsts  ,  but it was this weird platonic relationship ??  /  childhood friends plot ??? but also  .  .  .  so much sexual tension .  they just really knew how to piss each other off  ,  but they also had this really intricate emotional connection  /  deep - rooted understanding of each other too .  every thread with them was always so much fun to write  ,  partly because every thread with them ended in some argument about the other being a DICK .  also there was this au where they were 20yrs older  ,  and my girl was eighty years pregnant with another guy’s kid  &  i just remember her going off her HEAD because he ignored her for years ??  god they were such dramatic fools and i loved them. 

[girlablaze]

me seeing u with an arturo / odelia tag .. eye emoji

[museolympus]

tag dump 4 ! !