#finally putting more effort on my backrounds

[darushi-chan]

IT IS MERMAY. Awesome @avonneslovelies has an amazing Lucemond MermaidAU called We will met on the horizon and she answered this ask about it. It basically gives us more details about the merpeople in her AU and also gave me this super cute mental image of loner squishy kid Aemond and his tiny murder octopus.  So, I had a mission, to try my best to interpret her vision of MerAemond and draw it with his tiny super cute blue-ringed octopus 🥹 I personally liked the idea of KidAemond having his little moments with his octopus friend before the eye accident, so both eyes here, and some happiness for the kiddo.  Maybe he’s a little bit cute and squishy here, let’s imagine it as the calm before the storm, the accident will definitely make him train more and be less cute and squishy :(, juveniles/children in a lot of species are always simple/ugly/or cute before they reach adulthood and need to be the baddest bitches too, lol. 

[win-writes]

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘦

༶ contains: fluff, overwhelmed!jouno, jouno using mobility cane, established relationship

༶ word count: 0.8k

༶ a/n: based on this post that got way more attention than i thought! i feel like jouno's disability isn't talked about enough throughout the manga, so I'm trying my best to make up for it! always open to constructive criticism by anyone who can help me be more accurate when writing for jouno

To say working as a Hunting Dog isn't easy, would be an understatement. Especially for the man who depends on his sharp hearing to make up for his lost vision. Sure, it comes really handy when it comes to interrogations or investigations, but it's times like this very moment when Jouno feels as if he's no different than an average human being with the same disability as his.

After a tiring week full of missions, Jouno finally has the chance to spend some time with his dear darling. Your date at your favorite café filled your heart with so much joy and warmth that only he could bring you. Of course, the same goes for him.

On your way home, unfortunately for your boyfriend, the streets are relatively busy. Countless cars passing by, crowds chattering, loud music from the local shops. Smoking cigarettes, a plethora of perfumes and scents. All kinds of sounds and smells attack Jouno's senses, making it difficult for him to navigate on his own.

"Baby, are you sure you're okay?" your voice is filled with worry for your partner, who can't seem to be able to hide how overwhelmed his surroundings make him feel. He gives you one of his soft genuine smiles "Yes my love. I'm just tired, that's all"

You may not have the ability to hear his breathing, but you know Jouno like the back of your hand, you don't need to put much effort to tell he's lying "It's alright" you caress his back ever so softly and Jouno swears he can feel his heart melt at your loving touch "do you need help?"

Much to his displeasure, Jouno knows he can't take more than two steps forward with the amount of information he has to process to do such a simple thing like walking home. He simply nods his head to you, too proud to admit out loud that he indeed needs guidance to continue.

You detach your hand away from his back to reach out for your bag. The loss of contact forces Jouno's hand to subconsciously tug on your arm, ensuring you are right next to him "I'm right here baby" a simple sentence like this is enough to cancel every backround noise for a moment and fill Jouno's ears with nothing but your lovely voice.

You're quick to take out his cane, carefully unwrapping it before handing it to him "There you go my love" Jouno lets out a quiet sigh before taking his cane in his hand. You don't fail to notice the change in his expression, his sad closed eyelids, his smile turning into a thin line and his head slightly titling down.

You know how stubborn your boyfriend is and how he easily lets his pride get the best of him at times. Combined to how exhausted he is right now, it's only natural for him to feel self conscious about his current public presentation.

You gently wrap your arm around his own "It's okay" you whisper before placing a kiss on his cheek "Are you ready to go my love?"

A wave of sharply edged euphoria washes over him at your affections. His smile slowly takes its place back on his lips, before turning his face to your side "Of course angel"

With your arms perfectly linked together and the assistance of his tool, you successfully make it pass the sea of people, steadily gaining distance from the lively street. Throughout the whole way, Jouno felt his heart skipping numerous beats every time your delicate fingers drew random patterns on his limb. Normally he would tease you for being so openly affectionate, but today he couldn't help but just let himself enjoy your warmth and love for as long as he possibly can.

At last, the noise eases and the fog inside jouno's mind finally clears away. He sighs with a smile on his face, relieved that the world around him finally starts making sense again.

"Feeling better?"

His arm that was previously wrapped by your hand now moves to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You giggle at the way your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of pleasure to his entire body.

Jouno could never imagine himself being so vulnerable around anyone. Throughout his whole life, he had to live in constant alert to danger; both as a criminal executive and as a hunting dog. Never once in his life did he believe someone as pure as you would take him in and shower him with so much love to finally allow him to have his moments of weakness.

"Much better"

He whispers before capturing your lips into a sweet kiss, thanking his lucky stars for sending him an angel like yourself to lighten up his days and helping him escape the darkness that surrounds him when he needs it the most.

[the-cake-lair]

Paint me in beauty

Requested by anon

Jinyoungxreader

Jinyoung has been watching the reader‘s cooking show for a while now and he’s wanted to fuck her from day one. One day they bump into each other at a grocerie store

If Jinyoung had ever had to describe the most erotic thing in the world it wouldn’t have been cooking show. But it wasn’t really the cooking show, more the cook so it didn’t really count, right? Not that anybody had ever asked him for a description and he was more than thankful that he’d been spared the emberrassament of the explanation so far.

He was sitting down on his couch, already annoyed at himself because he knew how this was going to go. It was the same every time she posted a video. He clicked on the newest thumbnail and settled back against the cushions, his tablet in his lap. He watched the short intro, even though he knew it by heart, before the camera focused on your smiling face. Your cheeks were colored the lightest shade of pink and you were scrunching up your nose before waving at the camera. “Heya y’all! Um… so today is going to be a bit different? For a little backround story: thoe who have been following me for a while know that I’m close friends with BamBam from Boss_Bammie and we celebrateed his birthday a couple days ago. So what happened is that our some of the other guys were arm wrestling and BamBam and I made a bet on who’d win. If BamBam lost I would have gotten to pick an outfit for him and he’d have had to wear it for a day and record himself. But obviously I lost the bet so BamBam got to pick out today’s dich and…“ At this point you trailed off and threw your head back to sigh in mortification. “And his pick was a very… yeah interesting version of the hawaiian chicken. Imma show you a picture.“

You grabbed your phoone from the counter next to you and held it close to the camera. “As you can see it looks um… it looks…“ Someone off camera shouted ‘like a vagina‘, followed by what could only be described as an evil cackle. The scene cut to the table that stood in the dining area next to the kitchen to show the silver haired boy, BamBam, who was responsible for your misery, still laughing. When the camera cut back to you you were glaring at him. The flush on your cheeks had darkened signifficantly. “Yeah thank you, BamBam! So we’re gonna just-“ You sighed and glared at your friend one more time. “Start I guess.“

It wasn’t long before Jinyoung had a hand down his pants and the tablet on the couch next to him rather than his lap. He loved watching your fingers while you worked and the focused look on your face on any day, but how blushy you were, how your voice would break every so often while explaining the steps did it for him that day. And then you managed to knock over the flour you had set aside before in your awkward nervousness, prompting you to gasp out a rather loud ‘shit!‘ he was done for.

His hips were bucking into the tight hold he had on his cock, the material of his sweatpants rubbing against his nuckles uncomfortably but he ignored it, his hand moving faster and faster while he replayed you cursing in his mind over and over again, until somethig in his stomach snapped, his dick twitched and the cum dripping down his head lessened the rough drag of the fabric against his skin. He was breathing hard and when he focused back on the screen he saw you threatening playfully BamBam with one of your knives. He paused the video and pushed the tablet aside, allowing himself another moment to breath before doing the laundry.

It was about two weeks after the hawaiian chicken video had come out when Jinyoung actually ran into you, and at the little university grocery store no less. He was just entering the aisle to get some instant ramen when he saw you standing there, trying to decide between two different flavors. He stopped dead in his tracks, just staring at you in surprise. How had he never realized that you attended the same university as him?

After a moment you seemed to decide on which noodles you’d buy and you turned around to headd to the register when you spotted Jinyoung. Your whole face lit up with a smile as you approached him. “Hi! You’re Jinyoung, right? You’re the one who organised the photo exhibition last semester! It was great, I loved it! The pictures were amazing! I’m-“ “I know who you are.“ Jinyoung interrupted you beffore he realized how strange that must sound. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I um… I’ve been following your channell for a while now. I like how you explain stuff, even I can understand it and I’ve managed to burn soup before.“ You both chuckled and then an awkward silence settled over you.

“Thanks, by the way.“ At your questioning look Jinyoung hurried to explain. “You said you loved the pictures at the exhibition. Mot of them were taken by my best friend Jaebum and me so, thank you for the compliment. “Oh! I didn’t know that. You’re welcome then.“ You smiled and blushed lightly. “Okay then. I’ll head home now. It was nice meeting you.“

Jinyoung quickly treid to think of something, anything to keep you arround a bit longer. “I’ve been working on a new exhibition. You wanna take a look and give me some feedback on it?“ You turned back to him, obviously surprised by his offer. “Yeah I’d love to.“

The two of you headed back to the dorms. Jinyoung’s was only about two buildings away from yours so you stopped by your room so you could drop off your groceries, before you went to Jinyoung’s. You were surprised by how tidy it was. All the other college boys you had met so far had been rather messy. Safe for the table that was covered in pictures everything was clean and neat. You went over to the table, picking up different pictures to look at them. All of them showed men and women of various ethicities and body types in nthing but their underrwear. There were flowers painted onto their bodies.

“The topic is Body positivity. The flowers are painted onto the parts of their body they feel insecure about.“ Jinyoung eexplained from behind you. You turned around to look at him and smiled at how nervous he seemed. “That’s lovely. I wish there was picture that beautiful of me.“ “I mean we still need a few more photos for the exhibition. I could take one of you, if you want to.“ He offered. You nodded shily. “Okay. Take off your clothes and I’ll get the bodypaint.“ You nodded and began to unbutton your blouse. You folded it neatly, as well as your pants. Your socks you just threw on top of the pile. “I’m sorry it took a while. The blue was burried under Jaebum’s cat, Nora. She wouldn’t move.“ Jinyoung rolled his eyes before he looked at you. He took a deep breath before he set the paint down. You cleared your throat, very aware of how he had looked at you. “So I was thinking about having the flowers on my thighs?“ Jinyoung nodded, not trusting himself to not say something weird, and picked up the paint. He kneeled down in front of you and began to cover your thighs in color. He put a lot of effort into the flowers, layering the colors and making them as vibrant as possible.

The strokes of the brush on your skin tickled you, but at the same time they were strangely pleasant, feeling a lot like feathers caressing you. You were chewing your lower lip, focusing on not rubbing your thighs together so you wouldn’t destroy the painting. Finally Jinyoung leaned back again to take a last look. “Okay I’m done. How about you try sitting on the windowsill?“ You nodded and settled onto the sill. Jinyoung looked at you, telling you to move this or that way, taking picture after picture. It was one of you with your legs apart, your elbows on your knees and your head resting on your hands. The light made your hair shimmer and your skin glow. “I think we’ve got it. Here take a look.“ It was only when he held up the camera that he noticed that he was standing between your legs, basically trapping you between his body and the window.

You hadn’t come to that realization yet, still busy gaping at the picture of you. You had never thought of yourself as gorgeous but it was the first word that came to your mind upon looking at the photo. “Wow!“ you breathed out before looking up at Jinyoung. He was staring at you intensely, and the compliment for his skills got stuck in your throat. You tried to clear it but before you could try to talk again he bent down to kiss you, his hands coming up to rest on your bare waist. His lips were slightly chapped but you didn’t mind, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. The paint on your thighs rubbed onto Jinyoungs pants which you pulled down . They were in the way anyway. His fingers traced the petals of one of the flowers before moving up further. He pushed your panties to the side, gently rubbing your clit. He spread your entrance, teasing it to get you wet enough for him.

Your hands were gripping onto his hair tightly and you threw your head back. Letting him kiss down your neck. Jinyoung kissed down your neck, and you cursed, making him smirk against your skin. Then he pulled away and bent down to grab something from his pocket. It was a condom, you realized, and you almsot facepalmed for not thinking of that any sooner. He rolled it on before taking a step closer and pushing into you, slowly and carefully. He was rocking his hips forward gently, keeping his left thumb steadily rubbing on your clit. You were gasping into his ear, your hands back in his hair and your hold tightening from time to time. Every single time made him groan.

You felt the cool glass against your back and lost all sense of time. How long he was thrusting into you? You didn’t know. The constant stimulation on your clit and the drag of his cock against your walls had you seeing stars far faster tan you had anticipated you came with a sharp gasp before you bit down onto his shoulder. Jinyoung clenched his jaw at the feeling andd pulled out of you, quickly fisting his his cock until he came with a low groan.

For a while you both were quiet, simply trying to catch your breath. Then Jinyoung stepped back. He pulled of the condom and tied it. He turned to you, a small smile on his face. “Shower?“

[witchywrter]

“A Marauder’s Life for Me” Ch.2

(Marauders x reader)

Part 1

Summary: Y/N is an American witch who was forced to move to England. She thought her live was over before she recieved a letter changing everything.

Anon: hey guys!!! Here’s chapter two, I know it’s slow but it’s gonna speed up next chapter I promise. Just trying to get all the backround and feels out in the open. You may see me trying and failing to foreshadow some stuff so sorry if you cringe, lol. Have fun reading!

Warnings: slight depression, that’s all I think

y/n/n = your nickname

———————————————————————————————————

I woke to the sound of heavy rain beating down on the roof above me. California didn’t have rain in August. It was warm and dry, my ideal weather.

I remember one particular Fourth of July when my parents took me down to the beach with my mother’s family. We spent the whole day playing in the sand and water and when night had finally fallen, the fireworks began. My father, the Englishman, celebrated the hardest. When my mother asked him, through fits of laughter, why, he simply replied that he had to love the country that gave him us.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand.

10:23am.

My room was still dark despite it being late in the morning. Thanks a lot England.

I got up out of bed and walked into my closet to grab a white long sleeve sweater with a thin rainbow line running through the top half. I went over to my dresser and pulled out a small white bra, a pair of dark blue bell bottom jeans and some thick socks.

After getting dressed I pulled out my brush from the drawer in the nightstand and brushed out my hair. I braided two small pieces of my hair on either side of my face and left the rest hanging.

I was about to walk out the door before a chill went through my body. I walked over to my closet to grab a big jacket that just so happened to go well with my outfit.

I opened the door and headed for the stairs, stopping by the bookshelf and choosing a book that looked interesting before continuing on my way. Walking past the front door I noticed my father’s raincoat, which he had hung up the night before, was gone. I headed into the kitchen to find my grandmother drinking tea at the counter with a muggle newspaper set in front of her.

“Morning” I called, alerting her to my presence.

“Good Morning,” she responded, looking up from the paper. “your father went into the Ministry early this morning so he won’t be home until later tonight.”

“He’s already back to work?” I asked surprised.

“I suppose” she said looking back to the paper.

I grabbed an apple and headed out into the backyard. It was just as beautiful as the front yard, but enchanted to be bigger. The rain didn’t seem nearly as heavy as it did in my room. The yard was lined with a dark wooden fence and tall trees to block out prying eyes. There were multiple spots to sit down with benches, chairs, and tables. Two ginormous trees stood tall near the back.

I ran to take cover underneath one of them, but as I got closer I realized there was a ladder hanging from the tree on the left. I looked up, but found nothing. I set my apple and book down and began to climb. I got up about twenty feet before I hit my head on something hard. I looked up, expecting to see a large branch. Instead, I found the bottom of big treehouse. I pushed on the trap door which swung open with much effort. I climbed inside to find it, yep, magically enlarged. I was beginning to think everything in this house was.

There were two twin beds, each positioned beside a window. The windows had dark red curtains covering them. To the left was a cabinet with a glass door. There looked to be old board games in it. A dresser was against the wall between the beds and cabinet with a lamp and record player on it. There were cobwebs in corners and a thick layer of dust that covered everything.

I walked over, crawling onto the bed and threw the curtains back, choking on dust. I pryed the window open, sticking my head out to get some fresh air.

The view from up here was amazing. I could see the whole village, but I don’t think they could see me. There must be some concealment charm on it since I didn’t see it until I ran into it, literally.

I opened the other window and quickly went to climb down the ladder. I ran to the house, into the kitchen.

“Did you know there’s a tree house out there?” I asked, a little out of breathe.

“Tree-oh, that’s your fathers of course. He and his schoolmates built it in their fifth year. Hasn’t been used in ages come to think of it. You’re welcome to use it if you’d like. The cleaning supplies are in the closet over there” she pointed to the door next to the pantry.

“Thank you!”

I ran into the closet grabbing all the things I thought I’d need. I hurried outside and set down some of the supplies knowing I’d have to make two trips to get everything up the ladder, nearly forgetting to bring up my apple and book. When I finally got everything up, I took hold of the duster and got to work.

I spend nearly half an hour just dusting before I could clean anything else. After that, I took off the curtains and stripped the beds of their sheets, comforters, and pillow cases. I put them in a pile by the entrance so I could take them into the house later to wash them. I unscrewed the lightbulb in the lamp, replacing it with a new one I’d found in the cleaning closet.

I took the broom and swept the floor, sweeping dirt and dust out through the open trapdoor. Raising the broom above me, I used it to tear down the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling.

When I finally finished all the cleaning I took a step back. The place looked nice now. Old, but nice. It was odd, but being in the treehouse made me feel like I’d never left California. Like if I went back down, I’d find my dad barbecuing while my mom set the table. Despite what it made me feel, I knew it wasn’t true.

With a sigh, I walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. It was filled with old vinyl records. Mostly 60’s music. I’d have to go into town sometime soon to get more up to date music.

I grabbed my apple, taking a large bite out of it while I closed the drawer and opened the one to the right of it. There was a large tin that would normally hold cookies. I set down my apple and gently took the tin out of the drawer and placed it on the floor. It was heavier than I thought.

Inside was a Gryffindor badge on top. That was my father’s house at Hogwarts. I didn’t know much about the school other than it was where British witches and wizards went.

Underneath it was a picture of five boys. I recognized my father as one of them. They were all gathered around a four poster bed with a trunk next to it, smiling.

Beneath that was a leather-bound notebook. My father’s adolescent diary no doubt. Next to that was an empty black pouch with a long string to put around ones neck. The last thing in there was an old silver, ornate key. I wondered what that opens.

I put everything back into the tin and stuck it in the drawer. Now that everything was cleaned up I took the cleaning supplies back down along with the bedding. When I got on the ground I noticed how dark it was.

I walked back to the house and luckily for me, the rain seemed to have stopped. When I got in I set the supplies on the counter. My grandmother was already at the stove making dinner. I took the bedding up to the laundry room to put it in the washing machine and quickly returned.

Before I reached the bottom of the stairs, my father opened the door. He took his shoes off, placing them in their designated spot and took off his raincoat to hang it on the hook.

“Hey dad” I called.

He quickly looked up. He looked tired, really tired.

“Hey y/n/n” he said, giving me a small smile.

“How was your day?” I asked. I was still upset with him, but my curiously to know what could have possibly drained him this much the first day back won out.

“Fine, just some trouble a wizard has been causing, nothing we haven’t seen before.” he said reassuringly.

“Ok,” I said not fully believing him. “Well grandmother has dinner on the stove so..”

He nodded and walked into the kitchen, myself right behind him.

The rest of the night passed uneventful, but I still didn’t think my father was telling me the whole truth. I know he was hiding something, but what exactly, I didn’t know.

After helping out with the dishes I headed upstairs to put the bedding and curtains in the dryer.

When I got to my room, I took a quick shower and hopped in bed. My father had told me I’d have to interview for some secondary schools tomorrow. I was dreading it.

“Muggle school” I scoffed.

I should be going to Ilvermorny. Studying every aspect of magic, not language arts and science.

I pulled the covers close, a single tear rolling down my face. I laid on my side and reached to turn the lamp off. Closing my eyes, I prayed to anyone who was listening to give me my life back. I couldn’t take being motherless and magicless all at once. When I finally drifted off to sleep, the last thing I thought of was a memory of hugging my mother.

Her warmth wrapping me in safety and love. She smelled like her favorite perfume and a sweet vanilla scent that was unique to only her. I felt happy and loved. A terrible contrast to reality.

__________________________________________

Anon: yay! Chapter two finished!! I’m gonna start the third chapter tonight so I can have it out as soon as possible. Thank you guys for the support! I really like this story and I’m excited to explore it further. I edited the first chapter a little when I did some research. Forgot the U.S. doesn’t have a Ministry of Magic, but a Magical Congress, so I redid that part. Feedback is always appreciated. Love you guys, stay safe!❤️

[imagine-a-killingharmony]

S/O bursting in to sing ‘All Star’ + V3 Boys

How would the V3 boys react to their s/o bursting into the room with All Star by Smash Mouth playing loudly?

(Edit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_jWHffIx5E

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me, cuz’ I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed-!

This entire post? Amazing. Magnificent. I swear to god. Totally, not just memes.

Uh-Huh. This is the face of a truther, a person telling the complete and total truth. I wouldn’t lie to you!

-Mod Shuichi

Kiibo

Kiibo had currently just gotten maintenance so the two of you could finally hang out together! That’s what he expected for the two of you to do anyway, he wasn’t expecting any kind of devious plot.

You said you would come over to his place, and he had been looking at his systems very refreshed with how this exchange had went down...!

Then you came waltzing in, no not waltzing... it was much more than that, you had kicked down the door singing.

“sOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME.”

Kiibo was immensely frightened, he let out a loud gasp-scream before falling from where he was sitting and somehow managing to hit his head by banging against the floor.

That had caused you to scream back at him and rush towards his side, your actions had consequences.

Kiibo laid WASTED ™ for a minute and a half, his final words about how he forgave you... and then how you must teach him that song you went all the effort through to ‘seranade’ to him.

“It’s... my final request...”

“Kiibo you... just banged your head against the floor, you aren’t going to d-“

“My final request.”

“Okay then.”

You sat at your boyfriend’s side a mental note to never do that again, never again.

Well at least for as long as you can remember.

Shuichi Saihara

Shuichi Saihara? Jumpscares literally being the death of him? Why it’s more likely than you first thought!

But not likely enough, he was just reading one of his favorite novels as he waited for you to come back downstairs.

And you did.

“some.... BODY ONCE-!”

A song that he’s sworn come out from Kokichi Ouma’s mouth at least once or twice, yes he was surprised but he looked at you with more of a curious expression than anything...

You had to sing the entire song out in front of him, by the end of it he clapped at you with the most tiny smile, that adorable tiny smile that made people weep. “That was lovely... I got to hear your performance all for myself...”

“... E-Eh? Oh... uh... y-yeah I guess!”

After that day bursting into the room with random acts of music had become more daily.

Ryoma Hoshi

Ryoma has a complete poker face, nothing can or has broken it before unless you count those rare moments that you had gotten him to flash a grin or embarrassed him enough for him to let out at least one flushed reply.

And recently he was becoming more social with everybody else, which was a miracle in your eyes it didn’t matter much to him. Or so he says.

He was just eating breakfast, he hadn’t honestly expected this kind of thing from you, at least not during breakfast.

By ‘this kind of thing’, you know I mean the door bursting down with a simple shove and your voice singing an oddly familiar song from his stay in America.

”S O M E B O D Y ONCE-“

Do you know the best part of all of this? He was stifling a laugh, yes you randomly bursting in to musical dance to introduce yourself had gotten him to stifle a laugh.

Very proud of yourself at the end of it you walked to his side offering a playful smirk.

“Heeeeey~? If singing really weird songs gets you to flash a grin I can do it some more after this.”

He covered his mouth sheepishly looking away for a second or so, before sighing.

“Guess you could, uh... it’d be nice to... hear yer’ singin’ voice again, I guess.

That small declaration had caused your heart to do loops, and you immediately hugged him declaring to the world- about you have the most adorable damn boyfriend EVER.

His nonconsistent stuttering with him asking you to let go at first was absolutely priceless, moments which you wouldn’t trade for the world.

Kaito Momota

Did you underestimate Kaito Momota? Really? Foolish mortal... he loves and supports you, with all his damn heart!

Kaito was just in the middle of studying for some stupid test he already understood- ‘well enough’, so any distraction was perfect.

So when you came in with the promise of snacks, and you truly were just there to kick down the door and sing to him...

He would applaud you throughout it, you fool. You absolute fool.

“That’s the light of my life! You go babe! Yer’ doin’ absolutely damn great, I loooooove yooou!”

“Really yer’ singing is astronomical! Really just stellar! You got this!”

By the first line of dialogue it had become awkward for you, the tables had turned, the ‘no you!’ had been dealt, and you hadn’t even had a reverse card to play at him.

How come you didn’t think this through? How could you just didn’t think this through...?

You naive fool.

You... have never felt this level of pure shame before, Kaito came up to you whistling with a handful full of compliments for your singing-voice, mostly star-themed , before kissing you- straight on the lips.

“You should sing more! Heh, I’m the luckiest guy in the universe to have you walk into my galaxy...”

Damn those space-themed pick-up lines!

Mission failed. We’ll get em’ next time.

Rantaro Amami

He wanted a sandwich, that’s it. You offered sandwiches at your place so he went since he had nothing better to do, and he truly loved hanging around with the light of his life...

...

..

.

He was eating that sandwich when you came in, after breaking down your own door for some ungodly reason. It was a good sandwich.

“sooooOOOMEBOOODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME.”

He dropped the sandwich, an accomplishment for the books was managing to surprise Rantaro Amami.

But really how could anyone not be surprised by that? Even then he kept a rather composed look on his face throughout the song, by the end of it he even clapped.

“... Aha... if... your going to sing for me, can you do it with asking me first?” He pointed at the newly-murdered sandwich which lay forgotten on the floor, it looked like a good sandwich.

“... Oh! Oh sorry, hadn’t even noticed! I’ll try to make sure the next time I sing it doesn’t include sandwich murder.”

“That’s all I ask.”

He smiles at you accepting the apology, he picks himself up to make the two of you lunch! Why... what an interesting day today is.

Gonta Gokuhara

Gonta doesn’t understand why you had called him saying to prepare for you to come into his room with... an oddly Kokichi-esque smile on your face, but Gonta has trusted you! What had he not to trust?

He was currently in front of the door, he left it open so you would have an easy time to walk in, of course.

Although... things got really confusing for Gonta when the door opened with a loud [SMACK] and you began to... say strange words to him?

“SOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME-!”

“... S/O? Who told you the world was going to roll you, what does that mean? Gonta’s very confused!”

“E-Eh? Wait what?”

You stopped in your tracks, taking off some oddly fashionable sunglasses off your face for this very occasion. “Gonta I’m singing, I... nobody actually said that to me.”

“Oh! Why... Why are you suddenly singing?”

“...”

“Because...? Um... well, wait let me think of why... uh...”

“... I wanted to be spontaneous? I didn’t think we’d... stop... well... aaah...”

“...”

“Oh! Okay! You can continue, Gonta doesn’t mind.”

...

You... sang the song with a sheepish tone stuttering here and there, sometimes getting quieter as a mouse, how could anyone sing without embarrassment after that interaction after the first line of the song...?

Kokichi Ouma

Never. Ever. Sing this song in front of him, ever again. Take mental note of it, write it down, engrain it into your arm as a damn tattoo.

Just never, ever again.

You had planned to make up for the time he ran into your bedroom, after lock picking it just to sing to you. You had to get a new lock, every damn TIME.

So you had planned your revenge, while a better revenge be forcing him to pay you back for all the locks that he had used, you had planned to sing to HIM for once after breaking his door down.

...

And you did, with a loud smack reverberating across the room he seemed to be sitting in a chair turned away from you, why he didn’t react right away remaining a mystery.

So you kept going. “some...BODY ONCE TOLD ME-“

“The world was gonna roll me... I ain’t the toughest tool in the shed!” A voice other than Kokichi’s greeted you...

Nani?! You felt yourself stop, as Kokichi spun his chair around to greet you a grin wider than you had ever seen before vibrant on his features.

“... You...” You froze in horror.

He held a laptop with many stickers slapped across it right in his grubby little hands, Youtube was opened up and the video was playing in the backround, ‘All Stars’ he had predicted this but... how?! “S/O... you thought we were playing checkers did you?”

“We’re playing a game of chess, or as in just don’t keep a calendar with all your evil plans marked on it babe.”

“N... No...! NOOOO!” You lay defeated, your plan went to waste.

Kokichi’s bubbly laughter and ‘All Star’ in the distance to remind you of your failures.

While that doesn’t... actually sound bad, what was bad is the fact he actually made you pay for the broken lock he owned.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

Korekiyo Shinguuji... finds all parts of humanity from the biggest parts to the smallest parts of culture to be incredible, remarkable infact!

And he’s put a great deal of study into music as well, as most of it can be rekinded to most modern craft nowadays.

While he was putting research into more folklore he had recently discovered, you said you would be: ‘coming by UwU’ while he didn’t understand why you added the UwU something had felt unordinarily shifty.

His suspicions were confirmed when you slammed the door open by shoving into it, earning a shocked gasp from Korekiyo before you actually broke out into musical song.

[You likely know how the first line of the song goes by now, at this point right? You gotta.]

When your finished your surprised to see your boyfriend... well not really, he’s questioning why you broke down the door.

“S/O... had you wanted to sing, did you truly have to do it so unexpectably?”

And more importantly why you sang... ahem, this is completely taken from the wiki: “All Star" a song by American rock band Smash Mouth. It was released on May 4, 1999, as the second single from their album Astro Lounge and it is one of the group's most successful songs, peaking at No. 4 on the Billboard Hot 100.”

Interesting facts of the day! He’s glad you didn’t break down his lock...

...

Yeah, he’s probably the only one who would actually mind if you came running in singing to him. Humanity is an odd yet fascinating thing...

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, RICCI! You’ve been accepted for the role of MACBETH. Admin Rosey:  How is it possible that you had me laughing and crying in the same breath? You went from “... he’s a sad, kinda pathetic, almost self-sabotaging man who can’t enjoy the fruits of his own cruel ambition” to describing him as a Scottom (please read the app to figure out what that is). But you didn’t stop there, no, you added a whole layer to his backround that had me grinning from ear to ear. There is no other person I could possibly trust more to take up our beloved Mikael and do him justice. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character Alias | Ricci

Age | Nineteen

Preferred Pronouns | she/ her

Activity Level | I don’t think I can be active everyday — I’m a super slow writer and am busy with college, but don’t doubt my ability to dedicate myself to a good RP. I won’t be on often, but I promise to be consistent, and I strive for quality whenever I do have the time to write. Overall, I’d say 6-7 out of 10 depending on my workload!

Timezone | GMT+8

Current/Past RP Accounts | wariest.tumblr.com & disquieters.tumblr.com

In Character Character

♚ Macbeth

What drew you to this character?

♚ Stage actors HATE him. Whenever I write men, one of my favourite aspects of their character is their relationship with masculinity, and I think I have Macbeth to blame for that, or at least partially. I’ve loved his story ever since I read it at fourteen, — and the questions that come with Macbeth’s tragic development are some I carry with when I write male characters, namely: what happens to men when you tie their worth to their masculinity, and what happens when society has tied masculinity to cruelty, violence, and power? I see Mikael as someone that could have been good, because at his core he knows what is right, but because of his insecurities, and because and the environment he grew up in, he ignores his conscience in favor of attaining power. I love morally grey characters. Macbeth isn’t a mustache twirling villain that revels in his own crimes, he’s a sad, kinda pathetic, almost self-sabotaging man who can’t enjoy the fruits of his own cruel ambition. He’s someone who is very aware of his own atrociousness and feels bad about it, but despite his guilt, never once strives toward self-improvement, and while that doesn’t make him wholly redeemable, self-awareness without change is an ugliness that’s jarringly recognizable, an ugliness that I want to explore further. His actions are so monstrous, but his motivations are so incredibly human.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

♚ SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES:  I want Mikael’s development to follow Macbeth’s and take him from mildness and reluctance to full-on ruthless ambition. I think part of the reason why Mikael has remained a soldier is because he has yet to prove he’s capable of real cruelty — his businesses make a lot of profit, but making money hasn’t quite tested his loyalty and how far he’s actually willing to go for the Capulets ( or for his own ambition ), and thus his morals have yet to be challenged. But his capacity for monstrosity is as immense as his capacity for greatness, and with unchecked ambition, he might abandon his conscience and soon become a more threatening player in the games. If an unhinged Macbeth can slaughter a man’s entire family, so can Mikael.

I think for now he’ll want to finally start doing more for the mob because with Alvise’s death, tensions are rising and soldiers like Mikael are expendable. Paranoia will drive him to want protection, for which Mikael will do horrifying acts to attain, and with every triumph, he’ll learn care less about loyalty and more about his own power and individual potential.

Mikael absolutely despises himself, and ambition he sets out to achieve exists because he thinks accomplishing goals would make him hate himself less. Except as his actions stain his conscience, the opposite happens, and with the extreme amounts of self-loathing he’ll soon possess, his mental health will deteriorate, making him increasingly erratic and unstable.

♚ SOUND AND FURY, SIGNIFYING NOTHING: Macbeth is a paradox — his constant attempts at chasing fulfillment only serve to make him feel emptier. In the same way, Mikael exists in a default state of hunger, so unused to being satisfied that he always finds something else to chase after once he attains what he originally wanted. Nothing he does can assuage the feeling of emptiness. After committing more and more atrocities he may come to the realization that he’s the problem — that perhaps nothing will ever make him happy. Once he gets everything he wants, I think he’ll resign to nihilism and come to terms with the meaninglessness of existence.

♚ THE INNOCENT FLOWER:  I want to see someone act as a sort of morality pet. Whether actively or by just being themselves, this character will remind Mikael of the existing good in him, and he will want to change for them. Of course, change, for Mikael, will be short-lived, because in the cutthroat world of mobster Verona, people might place less value on morality, and ultimately Mikael will keep choosing uglier paths to further his own ambitions. ♚ THE SERPENT UNDER’T: In the original text, Macbeth’s nihilistic outlook is finally revealed after Lady Macbeth dies, so perhaps, in this universe, Mikael truly sees no meaning in anything— except his wife. Though he won’t admit it, and maybe he doesn’t realize it, but he’s wholly dependent on her “love” to feel like life has value. Lucrezia is another one of Mikael’s attempts at chasing fulfillment; he thinks he’ll stop hating himself if he can get someone so unattainable to love him, which it why it maddens him that she doesn’t. He wants her with all the desperation of Arctic Monkeys song, but none of the dignity. He pours all of his devotion to her in hopes that he might get something in return, and though part of him understands that all his efforts are pathetic and fruitless, his desire for Lucrezia’s love and approval transcends all reason. Mikael constantly shaping himself into a man Lucrezia might like, or the man Lucrezia wants him to be.

At the same time, wanting Lucrezia is a testament to Mikael’s own masochism. Mikael is never satisfied, so in a twisted way, having someone who never gives in to what he wants is perfect for him, and it’s possibly why they’ve lasted so long. It’s apparent that he’s not enough for her, but he’ll never stop trying to be.

Their relationship is just so unhealthy and damaging on his end, and it’s mostly Mikael’s own  fault for putting her on a pedestal and placing so many expectations on her that he at least partially knows she’ll never fulfill. All I really want to explore is what lengths he’s willing to go to get her to stay, especially now that there’s a deeper wedge and newfound tensions between them with Lucrezia having been promoted to emissary. There are so many directions for their dysfunctional marriage to go and I’m willing to explore all the possibilities. He’s already ruined, but keep ruining him!

♚ MY BLACK AND DEEP DESIRES: The old-fashioned monogamist fool he is, Mikael has never considered cheating on his wife. Except things have changed now, and for as much as he denies it, his marriage is failing. He’s empty, and when he comes to terms with the fact that his wife may never really love him, he’ll find some other way to assuage his deep loneliness, stray to the path of infidelity and disrupt the dynamic the Falcos have, for years, maintained.

♚ THE WAY TO DUSTY DEATH ( trigger warnings: drug abuse ): Mikael’s fall is inevitable. It’s less question of if and more a question of how. Being as overworked as he is, and as desperate for fulfillment, and with his future actions potentially damaging his pysche,  Mikael is extremely susceptible to drug addiction. At the moment, he still carries much self-control, but in the future with his increasing nihilism and self-hatred he might just crumble — more so if someone finds that weakness and exploits it.

♚ BE BLOODY, BOLD, AND RESOLUTE: Being the absolute masochist he is, as a teenager and young adult, Mikael would frequent Measure for Measure for a taste of thrill and triumph. He frequents it less now that he’s older and married and working full time, but part of him still craves being in the ring. With all that stress and anger, who can blame him?

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

♚ None of woman born shall harm Macbeth. ( Just kidding, yes, but it would be preferable to have someone born of C-section kill him just because it would be so FUNNY. )

In Depth

( trigger warnings: violence )

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Mikael knit his brows together. “What the hell is this for? Buzzfeed” Dark rings hung around tired eyes, which locked their gaze onto the journalist, betraying both exhaustion and annoyance. “When you told me this was for an article, I didn’t realize you were writing Top Ten Travel Destinations For the Overworked Italian,” he snapped, voice high and honeyed with derision. “Okay, edit that out. Try to make sure I don’t sound like a goddamn elementary student. I know I’m not Winston Churchill, but I can pay you good money to make me sound like I am. You’re a writer, you can do that, right?” A sigh escaped him. Mikael rested his elbows on the surface of his desk and hung his head low, thumbs massaging his temples. “I need coffee.”

What does your typical day look like?

“I get up,” he said, ripping open a sachet of Nescafe. “I jack myself stupid.” A surge of self-hatred shot through him as he poured hot water into the lid of his thermos. No sensible Italian would continue to respect Mikael if they discovered his liking to instant coffee, but single-handedly running a corporation left Mikael very little time for himself, much less time to brew himself his own cappuccino. Thus, begrudgingly, he took the sachet and dumped its content straight into the cup, but not before catching his own slip of tongue.

Mikael ran his hands through his hair, frustration simmering within. He sighed to himself. “Sorry, that was just the first thing that came into my head. I don’t know how to be alive before ten in the morning.” Dark eyes fell to the paperwork before him, and Mikael sighed, already resentful at the amount of work that needed to be done. Mikael set the thermos lid aside, barely noticing how it lay almost perilously close to the edge of his desk. “I go to the office, make some calls, keep track of the progress of my transactions, check Cawdor Industries’ stock market value, read some articles about bitcoin to try and understand what the in God’s name a blockchain is, make some more transactions, go home, jack myself stupid because satisfying primal human instincts is the only shriveled flower of joy remaining in life  — don’t put that in the article — and then I tell my wife I love her, and wait for her to not say it back.” For a second, his eyes gleamed with a silent sort of wistfulness, but as he locked his gaze onto the journalist’s, their usual deadness returned. “It’s our thing.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“Allowing myself to get ejected from the womb,” he deadpanned. “Everything’s gone a little downhill from there.”

Mistakes? Every day was a constant cycle of second-guessing and self-doubt. He’d couldn’t make a single decision without hindsight telling him he could have chosen a better path. Vacant eyes glanced over to the side of his desk, where Lucrezia’s photo sat, and Mikael’s heart rose to his throat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. I got to go to college. I made a name for myself. The business is booming, and I’m married. I have a wife, yes, she’s a real person, and yes, maybe it’s hard to believe but a human female woman took a look at me and agreed to live with my pathetic ass, and according to the law and what she said at the altar, she’s supposed to be in love with me. Sort of. So that’s going great. I’m grateful. I just don’t think I’m…” Happy.

Misfortune gripped the moment within a split second — as Mikael leaned over to reach for the photograph, his elbow struck the metal thermos and knocked it over, scalding water spilling from its mouth.  “SON OF A BITCH — ” Mikael rose from his seat, sending the swivel chair sliding outward, and as fury overtook him, his leg swung forward to kick the side of his desk, but as his foot collided with wood, the thermos lid toppled from the surface and spilt Mikael’s instant coffee onto his velvet office chair.

Almost all at once, his feature cycled through every existing expression, every existing emotion. Grief. Frustration. Resignation. Mikael palmed his forehead. “I’ll send you an email when my shit brain finds a better answer.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

It was possible to believe that Mikael was as honest as he was crass. But his apparent tactlessness drew one’s attention away from much realer vulgarities: the truths Mikael kept within. Kneeling before his office chair, he took a wet rag and scrubbed at the stubborn coffee stain. Not meeting the journalist’s gaze, he mumbled, “Hell if I know.”

Everything was difficult. If anything worthwhile came easy, nothing would feel rewarding. The Falcos had clawed their way into the top, not resting for even a single second. And Cawdor Industries was born of their strife and struggle, but Mikael didn’t feel right merely inheriting it. No path felt valid if it hadn’t come with hardship; he moved mountains to turn the business what it was today. His parents gave him a kingdom. Mikael built an empire.

Except it had been thirty years and Mikael had yet to know what rewarding should have felt like. Every accomplishment only lent him a fleeting sense of triumph, and the satisfaction was quick to dissipate. What remained, instead, was poison. Cawdor Industries didn’t just design weapons — it sold them, less often legitimately than not, and most of the time, Mikael had turned a blind eye on all the casualties his business caused. Until he couldn’t.

Once, he could not recall how long ago, an anonymous sender delivered a video into Mikael’s inbox. It was apparent at first sight that it came from a protester, one that didn’t agree with Mikael’s line of work. At times, Mikael wished he had stopped himself from going further once that realization had been made, but curiosity was a hunger that begged to be sated.

“The most difficult task?” Mikael laughed, low and derisive. The video remained in his mind — the broken bodies of his weapons’ victims, lives destroyed for the business Mikael had worked to hard to build. He flung the rag, and it slammed hard against his desk. “Getting rid of this stain.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues? Mikael was a soldier. Just a soldier. That meant even for all the profit he produced the Capulet family, he was not entitled to their protection, nor could he rely on it. If Mikael had a choice, he would leave them be.

But there were stronger forces at bay. Was it unreasonable to question an outsider’s motives when Mikael himself was being interrogated and probed? If it were, it hardly mattered. Distrust was his birthright. The Falcos found wealth, but they never lost the beggars’ nature. What they passed down to their son was more than riches; Mikael inherited his mother’s relentless hunger, and his father’s habit of sleeping with one eye open.

Mikael leaned forward, dark gaze locking into the journalist’s, eyes leering with quiet hostility. “That’s none of your business,” he said, low and furious. “Get out of my fucking office.”

In character para sample:

Lights illuminated the waters, the gold of the street gleaming bright against the black of the river Danube. Perhaps, once, Mikael would have said Budapest at night was the captivating sight he’d ever witnessed, but that was before he met Lucrezia. Mikael hardly believed in magic, but in this moment, he thought it perhaps it existed, and it was this moment, an undeserving man standing by a river under the stars, blessed enough to witness the best of God’s creations. It was a type of awe that nearly brought him down on his knees. He knelt, one hand scrounging his pocket for the ultimate sign of his devotion, the promise of surrender. “Lucrezia.” The softness with which he spoke her name betrayed how unworthy he felt of it, like he doubted it could ever belong to him. “I’m not good with words. I’m not good with a lot of things, and sometimes that makes me scared to try anything new.” His heart skittered against his ribs. You’re rambling. Stop wasting her time.  “And I don’t know if I’ll be good at this, at,” the words his lips wished to form felt so foreign to his tongue. “At loving you.” Mikael took Lucrezia’s hand and pressed it gently between a palm and closed fist. Every selfish ache surged through his body. Guilt followed, for the hunger of his heart could barely be restrained, and nothing of him was worthy of this, nothing of him deserved the light Lucrezia radiated. “But for the first time, I don’t think I’m scared to try. I want —” Mikael paused. What did it matter what he wanted? What right did he have to ask anything of her? “I want to be good to you. Please,” Mikael’s voice remained soft, slow, but all deep longing and desperation was evident in the way his words cracked through his throat. He unfolded his palm, and the ring resting on it caught the light of the moon. “Let me be good to you.”

Eyes fluttered open. His phone buzzed against the bedside table, and the jarring sound of its vibrations sent a wave of annoyance surging through Mikael’s skin. As the real world reformed around him, the dream-memory shattered, leaving a bittersweet taste in its wake.

Nothing much had changed. Same life, same woman, same relentless emptiness. Legs slid off the bed, and Mikael sat upright, palms on either side of him. With one slow, lethargic motion, his hand reached for the buzzing phone on his bedside table, the faint glow of its screen bright against his tired, barely woken eyes. His face contorted into a scowl upon reading his alarm label: WAKE UP YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT. Mikael groaned. He shut it off, slammed the thing lightly against the table, but as he turned away, his eyes caught sight of his wife’s sleeping figure. He looked at her, and his anger quieted.

The sheets had shifted when he woke himself, so Mikael pulled them over her body, willfully gentle as not to wake her. “I love you,” he said under his breath, and a certain sort of sadness consumed him. His heart rose to his throat. It ached with a stupid, childish fantasy: that if he said and breathed and lived those three words enough, he would one day deserve to hear them returned.  

Mikael did not blame Lucrezia for not wanting him. How could she? When he looked at the mirror, there was no part of himself that he did not despise. Men like him and the monster blood they carried — they were hard to love, hardly worthy of love. This was the routine he deserved: to every day pray that their hearts’ hunger be sated, to every day have their prayers met with suffocating silence.

If emotions governed people, what a tyrant love must have been.

Extras:

♚ Mock Blog: regicidios.tumblr.com

♚ Cawdor Industries is a mix of several businesses, namely transportation, construction, and weapons manufacturing, which are all a legitimate front for Mikael’s Dirty Mobster businesses: smuggling, money laundering, and arms trafficking. Like the capitalist pigs they are, they’re primarily concerned with making money and use their close connections with the Capulets for networking and intimidation purposes.

♚ I read a lot on Riz Ahmed before writing this app, and out of love for him I just want to respect his background as a second-generation immigrant and write Mikael as a second generation immigrant as well. Falco isn’t a Pakistani surname, so I headcanon that his parents had their blatantly Muslim Pakistani surname changed in order to be recognized with more legitimacy in the Italian business ( and mobster ) world. Isn’t their background a little like the immigrant narrative anyway? People who came from nothing build themselves a better future with nothing but unbridled ambition and determination to forge a better life for their children. And of course, they’re typical Parents Of Colour, who constantly remind their child of how much they’d sacrificed as a way of saying: you owe us. That, and the generational gap between them, with Mikael no longer being familiar with Pakistani customs and traditions as a result of growing up in Diverse-But-Decidedly-Not-South-Asian Verona, drive a wedge between Mikael and his parents, and them not fully connecting is one of the many contributing factors to Mikael’s decision to send them away.

♚ This is me rambling but maybe a crass, clinically-depressed, overworked, caffeine-addicted hopeless ‘romantic’ nihilist-in-the-making is a little far off from how you originally envisioned Mikael but I’m going to stand by my portrayal because I firmly believe that the Thane of Cawdor Who Shall be King Hereafter is whatever the hell the polar opposite of Big Dick Energy is and m a n  he’s literature’s finest and funniest example of just how AWFUL toxic masculinity can get… I mean there’s an actual scene where Lady M tells her MacBitch he sucks at sex and then Macbeth proceeds to go on a murder-regicide rampage for four whole acts to redeem his manhood,  do you think someone that insecure will ever have the cool, self-assured swagger of ( the disgustingand horrible ) Michael Fassbender of Macbeth 2015 dir Justin Kurzel? No! Riz Ahmed is the love of my life but all his resources have him look like he’s either paranoid or dead inside or both, which is perfect, because that’s just quintessential Macbeth, everyone’s favourite Scottom ( Scottish Bottom ).

♚ That all aside, he’s an irredeemable bastard and I love him, please take us both.