#will resident music snob on the other hand

[sinclairstarz]

cant stop thinking about stoner byler and also y2k stranger things so this is vaguely meant to be in the early 2000s

[sataniquepanique]

Painkiller Part 3 - Teenage Dirtbag

Summary: You and Eddie grow close after dominating his last campaign. He takes you back to his trailer where you discover a softer side of him.

Genre: slow burn, fluff, Eddie being absolutely adorable.

Warnings: language, mild drug use

Word Count: 1k

Notes: This part was solely based off of the headcanon that Eddie is a major cat person. I will die on that hill.

From then on, you sat with the rest of Hellfire during lunch. You were one of them now, having gained their respect after completely annihilating the last campaign. You sat to the right of Eddie, who has his usual spot at the head of the table, and repeatedly exchange flirty glances with each other throughout lunch, all while roasting each other and making sarcastic comments. He can keep up with your dry humor and sarcasm, which is not an easy feat for most. At one point, Dustin looks at Mike and mimics a gag. Eddie flicks a pretzel at him. Dustin rubs his eye where the cracker hit him, “can you guys please just make out already, Jesus.” You and Eddie look at each other eyebrows raised. You both slowly and dramatically begin to bring your faces closer until you are 2 inches apart. He smells nice, you notice. A mix of smoke, with leather and something else you can’t put your finger on. Eddie reaches his hand out to cup your face and then quickly turns to Dustin and gives him the finger while you both laugh. As much as you like playing around with the guys, a big part of you wished he had gone through with that kiss for real. You look at your feet and smile, trying to hide you true feelings for Eddie. “What’re you doing after school?” Eddie asks as you pack up your bag for class. “Uhhh….probably just going home to work on this art piece I’ve been trying to finish.” You glance up from your backpack to see him grinning. “Oh cool, so nothing.” You kick him under the table. “I’m planning the next campaign and I’d like input from Hellfire’s resident demon slayer, do you wanna come over and hang out?” Your heart starts to beat faster and you try to keep your cool as you reply with a shrug “sure”. 

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day. Eddie told you to meet him at his van after school. As you left the building you could see him leaning against the side of it in the parking lot. He gave you a wry smile as you walked up to him and opened the passenger door for you. “What a gentleman” you said sarcastically. “Don’t fucking forget it” he smiled as he shut the door after you and ran around to the drivers side. The second he turns the key, heavy metal begins to blast from the speakers. He quickly turns it down a little and mutters and apology. “…Is this what you listen to?” You ask as he pulls away. Eddie shoots you an annoyed glare, “is there a problem with Black Sabbath?”. 

“Oh no, no absolutely not. If you’re deaf, anyway.” You quip, holding back a smile. 

“I see how it is. So then what does a pretentious art snob like yourself listen to? Madonna? Cyndi Lauper?” He retorts in a mocking tone, letting go of the steering wheel to light a cigarette. You open your walkman and take out today’s music choice. Holding up the tape between your index and middle finger, you wave it between the two of you. “Let me show you what pretentious snobs like me listen to” you hit eject on the car stereo and replace Eddie’s tape with yours. The fast paced sound of the Sex Pistols fills the car and you start to drum along on your knees. Eddie mimics a gag and side eye’s you, putting both hands back on the steering wheel. You grab the cigarette from in between his fingers and take a drag. “Is there a problem, Munson?” You ask, eyebrows raised. Eddie shakes his head, “no, your taste in music is just shit.” He leans towards you, eyes still on the road, and you put the cigarette in his mouth while he inhales, keeping it in between your fingers. Your heart fluttered at how comfortable he seems with you. He doesn’t protest the change of music, and by the time you arrive at his trailer, you’re screaming lyrics at him for the sole purpose of annoying him. “I WANNA BE ANARCHY, AND I WANNA BE ANARCHY…” you sing as you get out of his van. He meets you at the door and puts his hand over your mouth mid chant, “that’s enough for today, Pistol” he calls you. Did he just give you a pet name? You smile into his palm as he opens the door. “Sorry for the mess, the maid took the week off…” he trails off as he heads down to his room, throwing his jacket and vest off onto the couch. You take a look around, eyeing the half empty beer cans, and full ashtrays laying about. You knew Eddie lived with his uncle, and he never spoke about his parents, seemingly a sore subject. Eddie soon emerged from his room, sparking a joint. “…wanna get high?” He asks as he inhales. 

After finishing the joint, you and Eddie are on the couch laughing hysterically about something you can’t even remember. His smile is infectious. He slaps his hand on your thigh and your heart skips at the sudden touch. “Wanna see something cute?” He says as he stands up and grabs a ziploc bag full of what looks like cereal off the counter. You look at him with a confused face, and follow him as he leaves through the front door and walks around back. “What are we doing…?” You say as you stand next to him in the lot behind his trailer. He looks at you and smiles, while shaking the bag in front of him. Nothing happens. You stare at him, even more confused, thinking he’s lost his mind. Then you notice them, a handful of stray cats start coming out from under other trailers, from behind trees, emerging from their hiding spots. They come up to the lot where you stand with Eddie, and he starts pouring the contents of the bag into small bowls lining the back of the trailer. It was cat food, not cereal. “…you feed them?” You ask, staring at him, struck by his kindness. 

“…The strays? Yeah, I have for a while now. I feel bad for them, they’re just trying to get by, trying to do anything they can to survive…” he says, crouching down to scratch one of them behind their ears. “…Sort of like you?” You respond softly. 

“Yeah…” he sighs, “…sort of like me.”

[daughter-of-melpomene]

MY THE A-TEAM 2010 ORIGINAL CHARACTER, DOT WATANABE

BASIC INFORMATION ———

FULL NAME: Dorothy Hina Watanabe.

OTHER NAMES: Dot (universally), Deadeye (among the military), Dottie, Dottie-girl, musume, magomusume, shinzō, Dr. Jekyll, Dorothy Gale, Watanabe, Lieutenant Watanabe, Miss Watanabe.

NAME MEANINGS:

Dorothy - of Greek origin, meaning God’s gift.

Hina - of Japanese origin, meaning sun.

Watanabe - of Japanese origin, meaning boundary.

ZODIAC SIGN: Cancer (born July 7th, 1978).

BIRTHPLACE: Kohler, Wisconsin, USA.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Mobile.

NATIONALITY: American.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: American, Japanese, Spanish (not fluently), American Sign Lanuage (not fluently).

GENDER IDENTITY: Cisgender female.

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her (but will not correct those who refer to her as any others).

ORIENTATION: Unlabelled romantic orientation, asexual (sex-repulsed).

OCCUPATION: Army Ranger (formerly), member of the A-Team.

FACECLAIM: Karen Fukuhara.

PERSONALITY ———

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor - “the lion”.

“The Gryffindor house emphasised the traits of courage as well as daring, nerve, and chivalry, and thus its members were generally regarded as brave, though sometimes to the point of recklessness. Some Gryffindors had also been noted to be short-tempered.”

MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE: INFJ - “the advocate”.

"Many Advocates see helping others as their mission in life, and they’re always looking for ways to step in and speak up for what is right. People with this personality type also aspire to fix society’s deeper problems, in the hope that unfairness and hardship can become things of the past. At times, however, Advocates may focus so intently on their ideals that they don’t take adequate care of themselves – a pattern that can lead to stress and burnout."

ENNEAGRAM: Type Two - “the helper”.

"Twos are empathetic, sincere, and warm-hearted. They are friendly, generous, and self-sacrificing, but can also be sentimental, flattering, and people-pleasing. They are well-meaning and driven to be close to others, but can slip into doing things for others in order to be needed. They typically have problems with possessiveness and with acknowledging their own needs. Unselfish and altruistic, they have unconditional love for others."

ZODIAC: Cancer - “the crab”.

"Cancers attract friends and lovers through their loyalty, commitment, and emotional depth. These crustaceans make excellent hosts and enjoy entertaining with comfort food and free-flowing libations. (Cancer rules the stomach, so there’s nothing these crabs love more than a home-cooked meal.) If you're not a fan of Cancer’s attachment to the home, that may be a bit of a problem. Though these celestial crabs avoid direct conflict by walking at an angle, they can inflict a harsh pinch with their distinctive brand of passive-aggressiveness. It may be difficult to convince a Cancer to talk openly about what's bothering them, but if you can do it without making them feel threatened, you'll build long-lasting trust."

ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good.

"A Neutral Good character typically acts altruistically, without regard for or against lawful precepts such as rules or tradition. A Neutral Good character has no problems with cooperating with lawful officials, but does not feel beholden to them. In the event that doing the right thing requires the bending or breaking of rules, they do not suffer the same inner conflict that a Lawful Good character would."

LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical touch (giving), words of affirmation (receiving).

SKILLS: Exceptional marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, knowledge of first aid, observational skills, people skills, singing, acoustic guitar, baking, endurance.

LIKES: Musical theatre, spending time with the team, fidget toys, a good meal, soft sweaters, cuddling with Murdock, slow dancing, autumn weather, horror movies.

DISLIKES: Mushy foods, strobe lights, rap music, any kind of discrimination, know-it-alls, being cold, smug people, snobs.

FEARS/PHOBIAS: Blood, being alone, failure, snakes, losing the people she cares about, being separated from the team.

BACKSTORY ———

Dorothy Hina Watanabe was born July 7th, 1978, to Sakura and Hiroshi Watanabe, the second child and second daughter of first-generation Japanese-Americans living in the small town of Kohler, Wisconsin. Dot’s father was a fairly skilled marksman, having been taught to shoot by his own father when he was young, and from the time that Dot and her older sister Ren were eight and eleven respectively, Hiroshi Watanabe used Saturday afternoons to take his daughters into a field near their house and teach them how to shoot.

Though Ren grew to have fair skill with a revolver, Dot took to shooting various types of firearms almost faster than her father could teach them to her, eventually graduating to doing complicated trick shots by the time she was ten. When the sisters were eleven and fourteen, they begged their parents to let them enter a shooting contest in the county fair, entering as a pair and beating out fully grown adults. Though that was the only competition either of the Watanabe daughters ever entered, the girls became mildly famous in their county, with a local paper dubbing them “the Oakley sisters” in an article about their contest win.

Though the girls were raised well and their parents loved them dearly, tragedy was destined to strike the family. One night while driving home from a date night, Sakura and Hiroshi Watanabe skidded out of control on a rain-soaked road after swerving to avoid a deer, crashing into a tree. Both of them were dead on impact, and thus Dot and Ren were left as orphans, being taken in by their paternal grandparents almost immediately. Though the girls’ grandparents were loving and did their best to raise the children well, Ren, who had always felt that her grandparents favored her younger sister, believed that Dot became even more the favorite after their parents’ deaths, and this caused her to relentlessly bully Dot for the majority of her childhood, mercilessly making fun of everything from the younger girl’s fashion sense to her frequent rambling and “freaky ticks” (Dot had not received her autism diagnosis yet).

Though Dot could never quite bring herself to stop loving her sister, she was relieved when Ren went off to college with the goal of someday becoming a United States senator. Dot, however, had no real intentions to get any form of higher education; she’d never been good enough at anything, or enjoyed anything enough, to attend four more years of school for it. Instead, at the age of nineteen (after taking a year to take care of her aging grandparents and make sure she could hire a quality caretaker for them), Dot enlisted for the US Army Rangers.

Due to her amazing firearms skills, Dot quickly became a well-known figure among the Rangers while she was still a private, dubbed “Deadeye” by her fellow soldiers both due to her infallible aim and the colder, more precise personality she seemed to adopt when in conflict. She also began a casual relationship with Lieutenant Madeline Keller, who worked on the base Dot was stationed at. It was with Lieutenant Keller that Hannibal Smith first saw Dot, making out with the other woman in the base’s empty barracks.

Dot’s commanding officer was ready to report both women and court-martial them for fraternizing, but Hannibal had come to observe the shooting skills of this well-known young woman and didn’t care if she wanted to make out with someone before the demonstration. After showing off her sharpshooting skills, twenty-year-old Dot was offered a position under Colonel Smith’s command, with a promise that she’d get to go on crazy missions and utilize her incredible abilities so often that they’d never grow rusty.

Over the course of the next few years, Dot grew close to Hannibal and came to see him as an adoptive father, as well as developing a sibling-like relationship with Templeton “Faceman” Peck, a fellow Ranger and skilled con man whom Hannibal also took under his wing. Dot and Face spent the majority of their interactions bickering and competing, but when Hannibal informed her that Face had been captured by a corrupt Mexican general and needed their help, Dot didn’t hesitate to agree to going on the rescue mission with him.

She just didn’t realize, going in, how much the events of that rescue mission would change her life.

RELATIONSHIPS ———

FAMILY: Sakura Watanabe (mother; deceased), Hiroshi Watanabe (father; deceased), Ren Watanabe (older sister), Himari Watanabe (paternal grandmother), Katashi Watanabe (paternal grandfather), Hannibal Smith (father figure), Bosco “B.A.” Baracus (brother figure), Templeton “Faceman” Peck (brother figure).

FRIENDS: Templeton “Faceman” Peck (best friend), Bosco “B.A.” Baracus (best friend).

ACQUAINTANCES: Charissa Sosa (acquaintance), General Russell Morrison (acquaintance).

ROMANTIC INTERESTS: Roger Wilson (brief crush), Kyle Holland (brief crush), Madeline Keller (former fling), H.M. “Howling Mad” Murdock (current romantic interest, boyfriend).

TRIVIA ———

Dot is a massive musical theatre fan. Her top three favorite musicals are Moulin Rouge!, The Sound of Music, and Hairspray.

She also really likes podcasts, her top three favorites being Welcome to Night Vale, The Magnus Archives, and My Favorite Murder.

Dot makes amazing peanut butter cookies.

She loves the show Hannibal (and is a huge Hannigram shipper, not that she’s admitted it to anyone besides Murdock and B.A.).

Dot is a terrible dancer. She is so bad that Hannibal knows better than to put her undercover on any missions where dancing would be required, because she would undoubtedly screw it up without even meaning to.

PLAYLIST ———

i. “angel with a shotgun” by the cab.

ii. “count on me” by bruno mars.

iii. “soldier” by fluerrie.

iv. “you can’t get a man with a gun” from the musical annie get your gun.

v. “stay stay stay” by taylor swift.

A-Team OC Squad: @auxiliarydetective, @datasgirlfriend.

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @guardiansofheroes, @ocappreciationtag.

[retro-scorpio]

The Arcana Meets The Devildom (Part Seven)

The Evolution of MC’s Relationship With The Residents of The House of Lamentation

Author’s Note: Even though the MC described in the following post will be based on myself, I will not be using my actual name, a fictional name, or gendered pronouns for MC at this time. I still want it to be accessible to people, and I feel like giving a name/gendered pronouns to my version of MC will remove a layer of that accessibility. Plus, it will (hopefully) allow people to insert themselves, their version of MC, and/or their OC into this if they so choose. Also, this is going to end up being a long post that uses explicit language, so if that’s not your thing, you can just scroll past this.

Fictional Backstory: Upon dying from the Red Plague, MC finds themselves not in the afterworld that they had familiarized themselves with, but plopped down in the student council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo with only the memories of the faces they left behind in Vesuvia and the knowledge of the magic they learned while they were still ‘”alive”. Once MC passes through the portal to return to the human world after their second stint in the Devildom, they find themselves back in Vesuvia due to Asra raising them from the “dead”. Neither the residents of Vesuvia nor the Devildom know that they’ve dealt with the same MC until after Julian, Asra, and Lucio’s arrival to the Devildom. Let’s just say everyone was in for a treat when their beloved MC strolled into the residence they were visiting and said hello to the Vesuvian person in the room.

Julian: MC’s main lover in Vesuvia. MC actually developed a crush on the plague doctor when they were his apprentice, but due to the relationship they had with Asra at the time, they kept their feelings to themselves. What MC likes the most about Julian (besides his good looks) is his sense of humor, because it shows the full range of his personality: intelligent and witty yet goofy and a little stupid. When it comes to bedroom activities, MC and Julian keep things fresh and exciting. There are times where they’ll do the good ol’ missionary sex, times where Julian will fuck MC silly (usually after an evening show at the community theater in Goldgrave when Julian just has so much adrenaline from acting on stage that he can’t sit still), and times where MC will edge Julian and make him beg for his orgasm. 

Out of the three Vesuvian men, Julian is the most understanding and accepting of MC pursuing other people romantically during their stay in the Devildom. To paraphrase Julian, MC was considered dead in Vesuvia for the three years MC spent in this other world, and his relationship with MC didn’t start until after MC rose from the dead/returned from the Devildom, so he considers it a part of MC’s past that they should not feel ashamed of. MC enjoys the fact that Julian gets on with her Devildom friends/lovers as well as he does for a variety of reasons (as you, the reader, will see unfold in this post and in others).

Lucifer: MC’s main lover in the Devildom. MC developed a crush on the eldest demon brother pretty much the moment they set eyes on him, but unfortunately for MC, Lucifer initially saw them as a weak human exchange student that he was forced to take care of. Lucifer’s impression of MC only worsened when they went up the stairs to the attic, and MC was incredibly heartbroken and pissed when they found out that Lucifer was the one responsible for locking Belphie up in the attic and deceiving the other brothers about Belphie’s whereabouts. These feelings culminate in the underground tomb. MC, incredibly angry at Lucifer and yet (somehow) wanting to gain his approval, wraps Lucifer’s hands around their neck and dares him/gives him permission to kill them as punishment for allowing Luke access to the House of Lamentation and dragging Beel in their shenanigans. 

Initially after this incident, Lucifer and MC wanted very little to do with each other, but as time wore on, they slowly grew closer to one another. MC’s crush on Lucifer resumed, albeit cautiously, and Lucifer started developing feelings of his own towards MC, although he would have never admitted that to himself or anyone else, not even Asmo (who sensed Lucifer’s crush on MC perhaps even before Lucifer himself did). Perhaps Asmo was on to something, because why would Lucifer feel as betrayed as he did when MC told him that they had met Belphegor? Sure, he felt that MC had just put his entire family at risk of experiencing Diavolo’s wrath, which is a decent enough reason to become irate at someone, but there was something else that was feeding into his anger as well, something that was related to love. MC, in a fit of passion and after Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, and Beel entered the room and tried to stop Lucifer from annihilating MC, grabbed a nearby knife and chopped two of their fingers off, staring Lucifer dead in the face and not shedding a single tear (due to adrenaline numbing the pain). 

Once the situation with Belphegor was resolved and the youngest brother was allowed to live with the rest of his family again, Lucifer calls MC into his study and put their fingers back on with some sewing and a bit of magic. Just as MC is about to leave, Lucifer tells MC that he’s sorry. MC, understand that it takes a lot for the Avatar of Pride to apologize, forgives him, and Lucifer thanks them for their forgiveness. This interaction would be the catalyst for their romantic relationship, and they would eventually repeat this exchange when MC is about to kill Lucifer with the Night Dagger.

Lucifer and MC’s romantic relationship is one built on admiration for each other. Get Lucifer drunk on Demonus, and he’ll blab all about how much he adores everything about MC. The pair can usually be found in one of four places at the House: Lucifer’s study, the library, the music room, and Lucifer’s bedroom. The library and music room are safe places for the couple to be discovered in, for they’re either reading (library) or listening to the other play music (music room). Lucifer’s study is a bit of a gamble, for they could either be working on paperwork/schoolwork in each other’s company, or Lucifer could have MC bent over his desk and ramming his dick in and out of them.

As for Lucifer’s bedroom, it’s best for everyone involved if no one disturbs Lucifer and MC. Most of the time, Lucifer uses his bedroom to explore MC’s kinks. About half the time, it gets sexual; the other half is mere discovery of what MC likes and what MC deems as limits. Sometimes, when Lucifer just wants to be close to MC, they will do the good ol’ missionary. MC is one of two people that can get Lucifer to submit to them, and that happens only when the eldest demon brother wants a break from being in charge of everything.

Lucifer was pleased to find out that not only did MC and Julian know each other, but that they started a romantic relationship when MC returned to Vesuvia. Since Julian is (sort of) the Vesuvian version of him, it raises his pride (and ego) to discover that they both fit MC’s type. If MC doesn’t bring the idea up first, he might just suggest bringing Julian into some of their bedroom activities.

Mammon: One of MC’s fuck buddies in the Devildom. Initially, Mammon and MC vehemently hated each other. Mammon thought that MC was a pretentious snob, and MC believed Mammon to be a complete and utter asshole. Whenever they were near each other, they would inevitably butt heads and argue loudly, to the annoyance and shock of everyone else.

One of these arguments occurs in Mammon’s room. Lucifer had sent MC in there to help tutor Mammon, since they were doing well in the classes that Mammon was failing. MC gets frustrated that Mammon isn’t even trying to get the material, and Mammon accuses MC of only helping him in order to stay on Lucifer’s good side. MC lets a compliment slip when they yell at Mammon, “If I didn’t think there was a way for you to wrap your brain around this, I wouldn’t still be here!” Mammon stares at MC as MC processes what they just said, and the pair are so still and quiet that someone could hear a pin drop. Then, as if someone hit the fast forward button, Mammon pounces on MC, and they aggressively make out. Thirty minutes later, both are a naked, sweaty mess on Mammon’s couch, and the room reeks of what they’ve just done. Thank goodness demons can only impregnate when it’s mating season...

When Mammon isn’t fucking the shit out of MC (which is what usually happens when MC and Mammon get together sexually, despite popular belief), the pair is seen tinkering around with Mammon’s car. While MC does still tutor Mammon at times, Mammon’s (finally) at a point where he’s at least passing all of his classes. Mammon sometimes takes MC out with him to his modeling gigs, which has resulted in MC ending up on the cover of a couple magazines.

When Mammon found out about MC’s other life in Vesuvia, he initially got really jealous of Julian, but that feeling quickly got replaced with something else when he found out about the nature of MC and Lucio’s relationship. In his ongoing attempt of earning all the Grimm in the world, Mammon gets the “brilliant” idea to film a really filthy porno starring him, Lucio, and MC (with MC’s consent, of course). Mammon also likes taking naps with MC and Julian for some reason that he still doesn’t quite understand.

Levi: One of MC’s friends in the Devildom that they hooked up with once. Levi hated MC long after the TSL trivia showdown, and MC had no idea why. At first, MC chalked up Levi’s hatred towards them to his feelings about losing to someone he deemed inferior to him, but as time went on and Levi still was acting cold towards them, MC felt that there was something else that was upsetting Levi. As it turns out, it all boiled down to Levi’s sin: envy. Levi was jealous of MC on a multitude of levels. He saw how MC was acing the subjects that he struggled in; he saw how well MC got along with everyone; and he even saw how easy it was for MC to express their feelings for someone. Long story short, Levi felt inadequate against and unworthy of spending time with MC, and he hated both himself and MC for it.

All it took for him to change his mind was an impromptu family gaming night in Levi’s room. The game? DarioKart (the Devildom equivalent of MarioKart). Levi was winning every single race he was in, even against decent racers like MC, Beel, and Lucifer. Asmo, being the Avatar of Lust, was the first to discover that Levi’s skills at DarioKart was causing MC to, shall we say, look at the third-eldest demon brother in a new light. At Asmo’s advice, MC whispered in Levi’s ear that if he won the next race he competed in, they would make this a night to remember. MC gave him a kiss on the cheek, and that was enough motivation for him to destroy his opponents in his next race. With Lucifer (who was in the loop due to Asmo having a quiet conversation with him during the race) and Asmo’s help, Levi and MC were able to have some privacy.

Once everyone’s out of the room, MC moves from their spot on the floor and straddles Levi’s lap, which causes Levi to turn red and begin stuttering. MC moves Levi’s fringe out of his eyes and tells him how hot Levi was, winning so many times. Before Levi can reply, MC leans in and kisses him. Unsurprisingly, Levi’s shy at first, because he’s scared that MC’s going to pull away in disgust or that he’s going to wake up and find out that all of this was a dream; however, when neither one of those things happens, Levi gets more bold as he gains confidence. This slow, sensuous make-out session eventually leads to MC blowing him in his gaming chair, and after that evening Levi starts treating MC nicely (for some totally unknown reason (ha ha)). There is not a second sexual encounter, but Levi’s perfectly content with the one. All he needs MC to do is to hang out with him and watch anime and/or play video games.

Levi was excited when he found out that MC knew Julian and Asra, because that meant that he could invite the three of them to his room and know that they genuinely wanted to be there. Sure, Henry 2.0 is a nice enough friend, but Levi comes to discover that having human friends is just as good as having an animal companion.

Satan: MC’s (kind of) ex-turned-best-friend. MC first had their eyes on Satan when they entered his room for the first time and saw the sheer volume of books he had in his possession. MC’s crush on Satan grew when he was a guest speaker in their curses and hexes class. To put it simply, MC found Satan’s intelligence incredibly sexy. Similarly, when Satan was tasked with proofreading MC’s Devildom Literature essay, he discovered that the quality of writing was as good as his, that the points MC made in the essay were intelligent and pertinent to the topic of their essay, and that they had no grammatical, spelling, or formatting mistakes, he nearly busted a nut right there in the classroom.

MC and Satan’s romantic relationship blossomed after the incident that occurred between MC and Lucifer in the underground tomb, and the pairing was (surprisingly) a healthy one. Satan looked out for MC and defended them whenever Lucifer was criticizing them (both in front of MC and behind their back), and MC helped Satan to not only discover his own identity outside of being Lucifer’s spawn and the Avatar of Wrath, but to accept the parts of him that didn’t fit into either one of those titles. While the sex wasn’t the type to be described in erotica, it was definitely full of love from both parties.

Satan and MC broke up on good terms a couple days after Lucifer mended MC’s hand. Due to the fourth demon brother’s relationship with Asmo, he knew that, even though MC did love Satan and enjoyed being in a romantic relationship with him, their heart truly belonged to Lucifer. While the old Satan would have hated MC (for falling for Lucifer) and Lucifer (for taking MC away from him), the ‘new’ Satan was at peace with the whole thing. If there was anyone that he would want to see MC happy with (that wasn’t him), it was Lucifer. Satan knew that, once the foundation was laid, Lucifer would care for MC just as deeply as he did. Plus, it would be weird for MC to continue dating him when they’re trying to start a relationship with someone who’s technically his dad.

Satan and MC can usually be found in a quiet corner of RAD or the House, studying, reading, writing, and/or debating (depending on the day). They enjoy each other’s company, and they’re able to bond over their love of learning and books. When the demon brothers were under the influence of the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup and MC had to give each of them an order in order to them to snap out of it, MC had Satan kiss them on the cheek, figuring that it was intimate enough to break the spell the syrup had caused without creating an emotional mess.

Satan’s one of the few people in the Devildom that gets along with all three of the Vesuvian men, which is a huge relief for MC. MC finds the notebooks Satan has that document tales that he’s heard Julian, Asra, and Lucio told, and after skimming through the notes that the Avatar of Wrath has written in the margins, MC concludes that Satan has a crush on the three men. With Satan’s permission (for MC would have kept their mouth shut about the whole thing if Satan didn’t want the Vesuvian men to know that he has a crush on them), MC tells Asra, Lucio, and Julian about Satan’s feelings. 

Bonus: Lucio’s the most surprised out of the three of them, for he had no idea that the most quiet demon brother felt that way about him. Unfortunately for Satan, Lucio does not feel the same. Julian’s flattered by Satan’s crush, and unlike Lucio, the plague doctor allows Satan to kiss him. However, once Julian and Satan pull away, Satan realizes that he has more feelings towards the idea of Julian and what Julian represents than Julian himself. And then there’s Asra. If Solomon and Lucio were the first Devildom/Vesuvia pairing to hook up, Asra and Satan are the second (although they might just become the first Devildom/Vesuvian couple). It’s almost like they needed MC’s permission in order to do anything sexual with each other...

Asmo: MC’s friend and the only brother they have not hooked up with. It always amazes people to find out that the Avatar of Lust hasn’t made any actual sexual advances towards MC, but it is indeed the truth. Sure, Asmo may say dirty things to MC, and he has given them a kiss or two on the lips, but he doesn’t feel the need to go further than that. Asmo’s perhaps the most sensitive when it comes to picking up his sin in other people, and so whenever MC feels turned on by something or someone, the fifth-eldest demon brother takes note. 

The main thing that Asmo does for MC, besides inviting them to spa days and fancy events/parties/networking opportunities, is give them advice on their love life. Since MC is so nice to him throughout their Devildom stay, Asmo wants to return the favor, and he loves helping people, especially when it comes to romance. He was the one that got MC and Satan to sit down together and reveal their feelings for each other after the underground tomb incident, and he also acted like a mediator for Lucifer and MC, ultimately encouraging them to get over their nervousness and start going out with each other (once the situation with Belphie was resolved).

Upon finding out that MC knew the Vesuvian men, Asmo had a lot of questions. Is Julian straight? (no) Am I Julian’s type? (I don’t know) Could MC please ask Julian if I’m his type? (couldn’t you ask him yourself?) How about Asra? (he’s definitely not straight) Has MC witnessed the way Asra acts around me? (very flirty) Is he like that with everyone? (no) Does MC think that Asra’s trying to fuck me? (again, why don’t you ask him?) Is Lucio gay? (no, but he isn’t straight, either; not a whole lot of people in Vesuvia are) Does that mean that MC isn’t straight? (that would be correct) What’s the deal between Asra and Julian? (I believe they were lovers while I was here in the Devildom and they thought that I was dead) How was their relationship? (Toxic; Asra took advantage of Julian) Would Asra do that to me? (I don’t think so; he’s in a healthier place mentally) What about Asra and Lucio? (Lucio took Asra’s parents away from him during his dealings with the Devil) Diavolo?! (No, not Diavolo; a Major Arcana called the Devil)

Beel: MC’s friend with eventual benefits. Contrary to the popular belief that Beel is a giant meathead, he’s actually quite smart. Sure, he may not get the best grades in school, but if someone starts a philosophical conversation with him, he’s not only able to follow along but offer intelligent insights of his own. Some of this knowledge is due to the amount of time he spends with Belphie and (by proxy) Satan, but a lot of it is thanks to research he’s managed to do between eating, doing homework, and playing sports/working out. Philosophy interests the Avatar of Gluttony, particularly when it comes to that practiced in the human world. This is what ultimately piques MC’s interest in Beel, although his looks and offers of sharing and trying new food certainly doesn’t ruin things.

For a while, MC and Beel were perfectly content with being friends. But then the second aphrodisiac incident happened. The first was when the brothers ingested the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup; the second (which is this writer’s headcanon) is when MC accidentally drinks one of Asmo’s beverages that happened to have an ingredient that made the average human consumer very, very horny (it was an honest mistake, really; how was MC supposed to know that a Devildom version of their favorite smoothie would have that kind of an effect on them?) Beel was the only one home with MC when the aphrodisiac started to affect them, and so he was the one they had to go to in order to get some kind of relief. And he did exactly that.

You see, another not-so-well-known fact about Beel (unless one happens to asks Asmo about it) is that he loves the taste of cum. It doesn’t matter where it comes from (both from an anatomical and racial (angel/demon/human) standpoint); the moment it hits his tongue, Beel’s going to consume as much of it as he possibly can. To put it simply, the Avatar of Gluttony’s ability to suck dick and eat pussy rivals Asmo (because of his sin) and Lucifer’s (because he’s the eldest). He can go for hours if one allows him to do so. For this reason, MC and Beel’s relationship turns sexual, although there’s a bit of a mental hang up for Beel when it comes to MC reciprocating. It’s not that MC’s not willing to return the favor; Beel just feels like the point of that part of their relationship is for him to give them pleasure.

Outside of the sexual context, Beel and MC can often be found in the twins’ room, the attic, the kitchen, the roof of the House, or RAD’s gym. The roof and gym are the only two places where the two of them can get some alone time, because Belphie frequently tags along when they hang out in the other places; the roof is where a lot of Beel and MC’s conversations about philosophy happen, and the gym is where they work out together (or at least at the same time, as a human is far too weak to do Beel’s workout). They’re not the closest pairing, but both of them like each other nevertheless.

The fact that MC knew the Vesuvian men didn’t quite register in Beel’s brain. Mainly, it didn’t make that much of a difference to him whether MC led two lives or not; he was just happy to be connected with MC. That is, until Julian starts telling him that he should let MC give him a blowjob at least once. The plague doctor doesn’t completely understand that Beel doesn’t feel the need to have MC do that for him. The sixth-born gets plenty of pleasure from MC’s pleasure, and that’s enough for him.

Belphie: MC’s side man. MC was initially hesitant to get close to Belphie after the incident in which he killed (an alternate version of) them, but when they saw that everyone else (minus Beel) was ignoring Belphie’s existence, their pity drove them to have at least one conversation with the Avatar of Sloth. Belphie caught on to MC’s pity pretty quickly during that conversation, but he liked the fact that someone besides his twin gave a shit about him, even if it’s the last person he would have expected to care.

One conversation turned into two, which eventually turned to them meeting in the planetarium at least once a week to look at the stars and talk about all kinds of things. The longer they meet, the more chemistry develops between them; this chemistry culminates one evening when, as MC was talking about an annoying demon in one of their classes, Belphie leans in and kisses them. This leads to a slow, sensuous make-out session that leaves both of them out of breath and a bit dizzy (but in a good way).

Belphie’s sexual nature is subdued but full of passion, and he knows exactly how to make MC melt under his touch pretty much from the get-go. If the walls of the planetarium could talk, it would reveal that MC and Belphie have fucked in just about every corner of the room. Sure, they still talk about life, but a good chuck of their time spent is devoted to sexual activities. One could say that their relationship evolves similarly to that depicted in “Beauty and the Beast”.

Belphie really doesn’t give a shit about MC having another life in Vesuvia, because sometimes it means having extra company (that isn’t Beel). Julian and Asra sometimes join MC and the Avatar of Sloth in the planetarium (99% of the time, it’s to simply talk, but there was an incident when Belphie, Julian, and Asra all took turns making out with MC, which made for a very interesting evening), and Lucio and Belphie’s occasional nap pile finds itself a third member in MC. 

[merakiaes]

Blueberry Kiss - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: No.

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This was just a small idea I had a while ago. It’s not very eventful, I barely even know what the hell it is, and it’s probably really OOC, but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think xx Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes!

Wordcount: 2693

Summary: Five years after last seeing your childhood sweetheart, you return to Freeridge to find that it’s like you never left. 

The infamous Spooky, leader of Los Santos, one of the most powerful and most feared gangs in all of Los Angeles, had two soft spots; two things, two people, who he would go against all of his morals and beliefs in order to keep safe.

One of them was known to all; his brother, Cesar. It was a given that after raising him like he was his own son since he had been a mere teenager, himself, that he was soft for him.

Everyone in Freeridge knew this and never dared to touch a single strand of hair on his head because of it. 

Those who, against all odds, felt brave enough to involve him in whatever scrap they had with Spooky, ended up learning the hard way why he wasn’t to be touched.

But he had another soft spot, one only his longtime companions knew about.

You.

You had grown up across the street from him, the daughter of a single mother. You had known him long before his mother bailed on him and Cesar, long before Ray got locked up and way before he joined the Santos.

You were as close as peas in a pod as kids, the two of you getting into trouble around the neighborhood before the thought of joining his father’s gang even struck his mind.

And even when you reached the point of Ray’s arrest and Oscar being jumped into the Santos in his place, Spooky being born, you stuck by his side through it all.

You never put a label on your relationship. However, the second you reached your teenage years, your friendship took a more romantic and sexual turn.

You were inseparable for thirteen years, through your childhood, through high school, and through his first years as a Santo. Through all of the struggles and all of the blessings.

And then when you were both eighteen, your mother met some snob from Washington DC and dragged you across the country in order to marry him and build a life with him; forcing you to say goodbye to all of your friends, your old life, the Santos, and Oscar.

The first months without him were insufferable, painful to the point where you didn’t think you were going to get through the heartbreak alive.

You tried texting him and calling him, but he never picked up, and to a start, you thought it was because he was angry at you for leaving, or because he had already moved on.

But then your mother told you that he had gotten locked up and you knew him well enough to, in that moment, be able to conclude that he cut off the ties in his own gallant attempt to not hold you back.

You knew he had always seen himself as dead weight, someone holding you back from going out into the world and making something of yourself. Now that you finally got an opportunity, he wanted you to be able to live your new life to the fullest.

You didn’t agree with his mindset; you never had. But you respected it, and moved on, although… not really.

Now twenty-three years of age, you hadn’t seen nor talked to him or anyone from Freeridge in five whole years.

The sound of Black Fortune could be heard all the way down the street as you stepped out of your car, now having parked right outside the house you had spent countless of days and nights in back when you had still been living in Freeridge.

This was the first time being back since leaving, and everything looked identical to the way it had when you left, almost making it feel like you never did.

But with the nervous feeling lodging itself deep in the pit of your stomach, you were quickly back to the reality in which you had, in fact, left. However, you didn’t let this discourage you, letting your feet move you toward the fence to the side of the Diaz residence.

Judging by the loud music booming from the backyard, you knew that no one would be inside, so it would be no use to knock on the door.

Even back when you had still been living in Freeridge, Oscar hadn’t liked having people in the house whenever he threw a barbeque or a party of any kind. You knew much had changed since then, but you also knew that his excessive need to be in control wouldn’t have.

So you made your way around the back slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips when you walked past the familiar red Impala standing in the driveway.

It was late and the dark had fallen over an hour ago, so as you reached the backyard and caught sight of all the people standing around and mingling, you struggled to make out any familiar faces.

You let your eyes scan the crowd, looking for Oscar or Cesar, even if you knew if the latter most likely wouldn’t be there. You realized pretty quickly that the man you were searching for was nowhere to be seen and gave up your search for him.

But after another good minute of looking around, your eyes finally stopped on another figure, his tall, lanky body and the familiar Santos cross inked into his neck looking as familiar as ever.

Your face instantly pulled into a wide smile and you wasted no time in heading over, your smile turning into a teasing smirk at the sight of the large number of empty alcohol bottles on the table next to them.

“Well, I see you Santos’ alcoholic tendencies haven’t changed.” You spoke once you knew you were close enough for them to hear you over the loud music and watched with amusement as their heads instantly turned in your direction at the sound of your familiar voice.

“No way.” Sad Eyes was the first to speak – the only familiar face you had been able to make out from the other side of the lawn. “(Y/N)? Is that you, chica?”

You held your arms out and chuckled, nodding your head. “In the flesh.”

Now that you were closer to the group Sad Eyes was standing with, you could easily recognize the familiar faces of the Santos, all of whom were looking at you with shock.

An older Santo, Hector, whistled at the sight of you, pulling a hand over his chin. “Damn, you looking fine, mami.” He complimented.

While everyone else made some kind of sound in agreement, Sad Eyes face turned into one of playfulness. “Yeah, what happened?” He asked, and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“Ever the comedian, Guzman.” You chuckled, and he snickered back, opening his arms for you.

“Come here, niña.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, your feet automatically moving you a step closer and thereby walking you straight into your old friend’s open embrace.

Your arms wrapped around each other, his cheek leaning against the top of your head and yours against his chest. He hugged you tightly, rocking your bodies from side to side a few times before letting go.

The two of you shared another smile, but before anyone could say anything else, all of their eyes caught sight of something behind you.

“Here comes Spooky.” One of the Santos spoke and your heart instantly skipped a beat in your chest at the sound of his name.

The Santo slapped Hector’s chest. “Better dip.” He said, and they did just that, along with all the other Santos, as Oscar walked up to you where you were now standing alone with Sad Eyes.

“Los Santos taking in strays now?” He asked his best friend, and just the mere sound of his voice caused your chest to tighten.

It was a lot deeper than it was five years ago, and much rougher, most likely because of the number of cigarettes he without a doubt had smoked throughout the years judging by the smell of tobacco following him around.

While you remained silent, Oscar not even having spared you a glance yet, Sad Eyes chuckled from beside you, the much taller man reaching a hand out to squeeze your shoulder. 

“I’ll go get you a beer.” He told you and you smiled up at him.

“Thanks.” You replied, even though you knew he’d most likely not be back.

Sad Eyes walked away, leaving you alone, and only then did Oscar look down at you.

“Never thought I’d see your face around here again.” He commented with little to no emotion on his face. “How you been, (Y/N)?”

You smiled softly. “Oh, you know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Nothing like being dragged away from your life by your alcoholic, gold-digging mother to live on the other side of the continent for five years.”

Your words brought a chuckle from his lips. “I bet.” He nodded, his chuckling dying down into a simple smile, soft enough to match your own. “You’re looking good.”

Butterflies instantly filled your stomach. “So are you, Oscar.” You nodded, your expression turning a bit more serious. “How have you been? How are things at home?”

His smile faltered ever so slightly, his eyes turning harder. “Same as they were before you left.”

You nodded, biting on the inside of your lip lightly. “Your mom’s still gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Ray’s still in prison?”

“Yup.”

“So it’s just you and Cesar.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, raising the beer he was holding to his lips and taking a slow sip, his eyes leaving yours for the briefest of moments.

Your lips tugged upward with pity, but you quickly covered it up. “How is he?” You asked, turning the conversation away from the heavy stuff.

At the change of subject, he looked back down at you, giving you another shrug. “As good as you can be when you’re stuck in Freeridge. Good grades, friends, girlfriend.”

“No way.” You found yourself chuckling. “Lil’ Spooky getting action already. Who’s the poor girl falling victim to the Diaz charm this time around?”

He snickered, taking another sip of his beer. “Monse.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Monty’s daughter?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and you let out a low whistle.

“Damn. Didn’t see that coming.” You hugged your arms around your body as a chilly breeze pulled at your jacket, looking to the side for a moment, thinking. “What about you?” You asked then, turning your gaze back to him just in time to see his eyebrow raise.

“What about me?” He asked, although judging by the small, teasing smile on his lips, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

But still, you played along, asking in a drawling, playful voice. “Someone special in Spooky’s life?”

He chuckled at your tone, but it died down almost immediately, his head shaking in response to your question. “Nah, haven’t got time for that shit no more.” He replied, his voice low. “Have more important things to deal with.”

You raised your head in a nod and forced yourself to smile a tightlipped smile, ignoring the jab his words sent straight to your heart. “Right.”

Silence fell over the two of you. It was awkward, but not enough to make it uncomfortable. You were looking everywhere except at each other, eyes scanning over the crowd gathered in his backyard.

“How does it feel to be back?” He asked then, causing you to return your attention to him, finding him now looking down at you with an unreadable expression. He wasn’t smiling, but it wasn’t emotionless either. It was just… sincere.

“Weird. Especially being here with you.” You answered before you could stop yourself and he instantly gave you the nod.  

“Yeah? How come?”

You snorted, getting slightly uncomfortable as you were put on the spot. “Please, we didn’t go a day without each other back then.” You answered, glancing to the side briefly before looking back up at him. “You were that one person I always wanted to talk to. No matter what. And now we’ve been apart for five years. We might as well be strangers.”

He listened to you as you spoke intently, his head shaking the second you were done. “We’re not strangers.” He protested softly. “Never was.”

You have him a sad look. “A lot has happened since we last saw each other.” You told him and he nodded.

“I know. But nothing’s changed.”

You stared deeply into each other’s eyes, everything seeming to slow down around you. Before you knew it, and almost as if your bodies were moving on autopilot, you had both taken a step closer to each other.

Oscar’s free hand came up to touch your upper arm gingerly, while one of yours moved up to rest on top of his. You remained like this for a good few seconds, just searching each other’s faces for any indication that the other was against what was about to happen.

But when neither of you could find any indication of the sort, you slowly brought your other hand up to his cheek, both of you moving your faces to close the remaining gap between you to connect your lips in the first kiss in five years.

The first time you fall in love, it changes you forever and no matter how hard you try, that feeling just never goes away. You realized this now when, even after all these years, the feeling of his lips on yours sent a hot jolt of sparkling electricity through your entire body.

You pressed your lips harder against his, both of you taking another step closer to the other and pulling at each other’s bodies desperately.

Your breathing became heavy in no time and your heart thumped against the inside of your chest violently.

While the hand he had on your arm remained there, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your jacket with his thumb, the hand that was holding the beer came to rest on the curve of your hip.

Meanwhile, your hands moved up to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you as you got completely lost in the kiss.

After what seemed like eternity but at the same time barely even a second, you pulled apart for air, both of your chests heaving up and down breathlessly and your foreheads pressed together.

Your eyes met again, and breathlessly, you confessed. “I thought you’d forgotten about me by now.”

Oscar instantly shook his head against yours, blinking slightly. “No man forgets a good woman like you.” He mumbled quietly, softly. “They just become haunted by the realization that you’re not replaceable. That there’s not anyone who can live up to the feelings you stirred up in me.”

Your chest and stomach fluttered with butterflies at his words, an intense wave of peacefulness and happiness coming over you.

“Well, I know for a fact that one thing hasn’t changed.” You whispered back, the corners of your lips tugging slightly.

“What’s that?” He asked, and only then did you fully smile.

“You’re just as smart now as you were when I left you.”

A smug smirk came across his features, his head nodding against yours. “And you still use the same lipgloss.” He pointed out and you raised an eyebrow.

“How can you tell?” You asked, slightly shocked but also amused.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling against them. “Still tastes the same.” He pressed his to yours fully in a second kiss, short but sweet. Once you came back apart, you watched as his tongue darted out from between his lips, tasting them.

“Blueberry.” He mused, smirking down at you. “Nothing that tastes better.”

You chuckled, caressing the nape of his neck with your fingers. “I guess things really haven’t changed, huh?” You asked and watched as his eyebrows rose in amusement.

“I told you, mami.”  He said.

You chuckled, nodding your head. “That you did.” You confirmed, and then pulled him back in for another, sweet, blueberry kiss.

All these years, you had convinced yourself that you were over him and yet now, in this very moment, you realized you probably never were, and that a part of you would always be waiting for him whenever you were apart.

[kaeyas-beloved]

Hey there! Can i request a chubby/thicker mc? But instead of insecure, she’s confident af? People think she’s a bitch at first, but they’re proved wrong when she’s actually really good at giving life advice? If i were to be more specific, then she likes coloring her nails, stuff like that and is a bit of a bitch at first but can be your best friend at the same time? Thanks!(i checked your rules, and you didn’t have any specific numbers, so hcs, anyone but pls choose Arthot) thanks!

Can i add more text? If i can, then the chubby but confident mc is also really proud of her lover? Thank you again!

Hello! You absolutely can (both request and add more text)! Sorry this took so long, headcannons aren’t really my forte, but I still hope you like them! Also, I added Isaac and Mozart since I had some ideas for them :) 

Thank you for requesting!

(It’s under the cut since these are sorta long)

Arthur, Isaac & Mozart w/ a Chubby!Confident!Reader/MC

~

Arthur Conan Doyle

Now don’t get me wrong, Arthur loves all women no matter what they look like or their personality (unless they’re evil like that one Sister from his route - you know the one)

But when a women has the confidence level of a queen?? You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. 

There’s just something about women who aren’t like all the others he’s been with that really gets him.  

Even if you insulted everything that you could about him the first time you both met.

It was the boldness in your words and the way you carried yourself without a care what others said that has him infatuated and wanting to know more.

The first couple interactions with the other residents had him falling on his ass laughing.

Never has he seen someone make Theo and Wolfie shut up so fast.

After that he knows exactly when some kind of verbal brawl between her and another resident, most likely Theo, will occur and he kicks back for the show. 

Kind of gets hurt when she says something particularly harsh but brushes it off like he does.

A week passes and Arthur has figured out that she’s a little like Theo in a sense, bitter on the outside but secretly soft on the inside.

How does he know? Well he’s experienced this secret side of her of course!

It was during one of his self-deprecating moods, his past coming to haunt his thoughts when (y/n) walked in with his dinner, seeing as he skipped out on it.

The writer was so deep in thought that he didn’t even hear her come in until the glass of Rouge was set down beside him, shocking him. 

A flirty line was on the tip of his tongue when a quiet “Hey” came from her, in the softest voice he’s every heard from her, that one word silencing him.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on in that head of yours but... don’t let it consume you. It won’t be easy but you gotta push past it and not let it eat at you, that’s how it wins...” 

Arthur’s breath hitched when the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips, he was sure that he was seeing an actual angel.

After that it was like clock work and the two were hanging out more and more, going out in town a lot (with Vic too).

Her advice hit him in a way and like she said, it wasn’t easy, but it was a start for him.

From the very start of their relationship as a couple (y/n) would constantly give Arthur praises anytime he moved forward to forgiving and just bettering himself in general.

Rewards usually involve kisses and cuddles

Maybe a little more ;)

Like I mentioned earlier he doesn’t care that you may be a little thicker than the other women in town, it’s more for him to love!

He’s honestly so happy that you love your body despite what others may say, he’s a very proud boyfriend.

But even if you do, that won't stop him from loving every inch of you and your body.

All in all, it’s a relationship that includes a lot of love and proud moments for one another :)

Isaac Newton

Poor Apple Boi is a little scared of you, don’t be mean to him please he’s shy and insecure T_T

Like don’t get him wrong confident women are great but... you might be a little too confident sometimes for his heart to keep up.

“(Y/N) yOU cAn’T sAY tHinGS LiKE tHAT!!” is something he thinks a lot when a particularly mean thing might exit your mouth.

Begs to any God that will listen that there’s some passive side to you that will help lower his blood pressure. 

But if there isn’t that’s alright, he guess, cause most of the time you aren’t actually that bad.

That was before the both of you ran into the children he teaches at the fountain, his heart and mind doing literal summer salts cause what if you make one of them cry? What then!? He can't handle crying children! 

Nevertheless Isaac still asks if you could help educate them and you agree without complaint - surprisingly

About half an hour later when his group of kids were working (you split them into two groups, one for him and another for you) he took a glance your way and - HOLY SHIT IS SHE SMILING!? 

Takes a double take on that, splashes a little of the freezing fountain water in his face and when he still sees you smiling down at the young ones Isaac thinks he's done for.

But then he hears what you’re telling the children

“If you’re willing to put the effort into it and continue to push forward then you can do and be anything you want...”

You hear that? It’s the sound of his poor heart malfunctioning

Isaac may have an extended life but even then he didn’t think he’d live to see the day that a genuine smile, with no snide present, wound grace your face and that such encouraging words would come from you.

You weren’t rocket science to him anymore, he saw that there was more to you and unconsciously he started to soften up around you.

When the two of you got into a relationship it was a lot of you taking the lead, trying to help the shy man out of his cocoon.

And when he did take those steps and started to speck more and say what was on his mind? He got smooches, loads of them.

You are very very proud that he’s growing into the man he wants to be.

One time when you guys were out and about some snob women were making some comments about your weight. Baby was furious and was ready to reassure you that you were beautiful no matter what you looked like, even if he isn’t the best at comforting people.

He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when all you did was say something equally bad (if not worse) to them, grabbed his hand and left. 

When he asked if you were okay he was very happy to hear that their words didn’t hurt you because their opinion didn’t matter to you. 

He did, however, turn a little red when you said that if anyone’s opinion mattered it was his because you love him and knows that he loves you <3 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Won’t lie, both of you got into the equivalent of a cat fight the first time you ran into each other.

It was so bad Jean and Napoleon had to step in before either of you said something that might actually hurt the other.

After that night it was like an unspoken rule between the two of you that under no circumstances should your paths cross.

Which was incredibly hard since Sebastian assigned you to bring him his meals.

Not one interaction went without some sort of mean jab being sent to the other. 

One time you got some pink nail polish on Mozart’s white piano and he lost it

It seemed absolutely impossible for there to be any chance that the two could get along

All hope was nearly lost, but then came the day that (y/n) said something to him that just turned this mess of a relationship around.

The pianist was having a hard time composing a certain piece and nothing was coming to him no matter what he did. 

About to give up for the day, in came the human with a bottle of Blanc for him. When her eyes spotted the disaster that was crumpled sheet music, many of the notes scratched out, she knew exactly what was going on.

“Put yourself back to a time that you were happy and full of joy... Or, think about what you feel when you eat something really good - like chocolate, I know you love it. If there were colours to accompany the feeling, what would they be? Would they be slow moving like a river or burst like fireworks? Use those as a pace and let your heart do the rest...” 

Before the haughty musical genius could question a single word she just told him, (y/n) was already out of the room, off to finish the rest of her chores

Nevertheless Mozart tries it out and by the end of the night he’s got a masterpiece written out in front of him.

And you have an IOU with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart written on it - and he hates having to owe people.

So here he is, out in town for the first time in forever, showing you 19th century Paris since he remembered overhearing you say how you wanted to take advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Surprisingly, it went well. Every time you said something that would usually elicit a remark from him was met instead with him holding his tongue, your soft voice from the day before playing in his mind each time.

When you caught on that he was actually trying to be nice you too made the effort, thus resulting in the two of you growing just a little closer.

You also gave him some nail polish remover that you had to help clean his piano cause he was having trouble.

From then on the harsh words became playful more than anything.

Could care less what you look like, though is very happy that you're comfortable in your own skin.

During Mozart's performances (y/n) claps the loudest and he knows it, she's told him that it's because she's very proud that he's started to play his music for others and because he wants to, not because he's force to.

His lips always twitch up when he hears her cheer for him, it fills him with joy every time knowing the meaning behind the action and that it comes with love.

BONUS!

Vincent and her got along instantly when he spotted these beautiful designs that she painted on her nails. He wanted to know how she did it without smudging anything since nails are such a small canvas to work with.

Theo got confused and upset when he saw that she was nice to his brother and not him.

She's totally destroyed Shakespeare cause no one messes with her friends goddammit! 

~ 

Requests are closed right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy my other works while you wait for them to open! You might find something you like, who knows :)

Masterlist

[lostbbygorl]

THE BALL THAT STARTED IT (LEVI X F!READER):

AU: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE BY JANE AUSTEN

~~~~~

The air in the congested ballroom was mirthful. Laughter, idle chatter, and upbeat orchestral music filled the evening, and there were smiles and drinks all around.

A lot of the attendees of the ball were dancing. There in the audience row at the front seats were three young ladies, each very bonny and merry indeed. Y/N, her sister, Christa, and her best friend, Nifa, were all joking with each other and immersed in conversation. They paid no mind to the dancers in front of them. Christa and Nifa were giggling at Y/N’s sarcastic, witty remarks that she was famous for. Everyone knew that Y/N L/N was a dangerous opponent to have in an argument. Her words cut through like a knife, and her dazzling smile after shutting someone up was quite a satisfying sight indeed.

“ Christa, if every man in the room doesn’t end up in love with you by the end of tonight then I’m no judge of beauty”, Y/N teased her sister.

“ Or men”, Christa said, grinning.

“ Please, they’re far too easy to judge”, Y/N scoffed.

“ They aren’t all bad, you know”, Christa said, familiar with her sister’s disinterest in men.

“ They’re humorless poppycocks, in my limited experience”, she countered.

“ One of these days, Y/N, someone will catch your eyes. Then you’ll have to watch your tongue”, said Christa knowingly, eyeing the crowd. The mood in the room had shifted.

Suddenly, the crowd paused their dancing, and the music stopped. Everyone looked with awe and slight intimidation at the sight ahead of them. Out of curiosity, the three girls looked in front of them too, trying to figure out the sudden disruption. The dancers whispered amongst themselves. Y/N craned her neck, catching a glimpse of three new attendees of the party. Y/N then remembered a conversation from earlier on in the day.

Her sisters and parents were excitedly yapping about a Mr. Smith. He was a new resident in Trost, and he was an extremely wealthy man. His riches was most of what Y/N’s mother was impressed by. All Mrs. L/N ever thought about was getting her daughters married off to gentlemen of high status. So naturally, she started pestering Christa, her oldest daughter, to woo Mr. Smith when he arrived. Y/N figured that Mr. Smith had arrived at the party. But she was indifferent to him. To her, he was just another wealthy man on top of the social hierarchy. He’s probably a snob anyways, thought Y/N.

“ So which one of those painted peacocks is Mr. Smith?”, Y/N questioned.

“ He’s the blond in the middle. On the left is Marceline Smith, his sister”, Nifa explained.

Y/N scanned the siblings. They looked very similar, and it was a surprise they weren’t twins. Mr. Smith was a very tall man with light blond hair and ocean blue eyes. He was finely built with broad shoulders. But the most noticeable part of him were his bushy eyebrows, which his sister, Marceline also had. Marceline had long curly hair of the same shade as her brother. She was however much shorter than him, with softer features. But it wasn’t the Smith siblings that piqued Y/N’s interest, it was the short, brooding man accompanying them.

“ And who’s that gloomy little person with the chronic scowl?”, Y/N asked, earning her chuckles from her sister and friend.

“ That’s Mr. Levi Ackerman, the Smiths’ good friend”, Nifa said.

“ He looks like a miserable soul”, Y/N noted.

“ Miserable he may be, but poor he is anything but”, Nifa said.

“ 10,000 pounds a year, and he owns half of Ragako”, Nifa stated, impressed.

“ The miserable half”, Y/N snorted, earning her more chuckles from the other two girls.

The three newcomers looked around the room as they walked in the middle of it. The Smiths had small smiles on their faces, but Mr. Ackerman remained stiff and unsmiling. He had an arrogant air, and Y/N was turned off by it. He seemed too judgemental of all these strangers in the room. Y/N hated such qualities in people.

Sir Pyxis, the host of the ball, whispered facts about Trost to the group as they walked. He offered to introduce the ladies in the choir. Finally, the trio stopped walking and sat at the special seats reserved for them. The music began once more, and the room was lively again. Y/N shook her head and smiled when she noticed her mother nudging her father, urging him to introduce the new bachelors to their daughters. Her father was used to his hasty wife’s antics and ignored her words. He’d introduce them all, just not in such a rush.

“ Mr. Smith is rather handsome, isn’t he? And he seems the friendliest out of all three”, Christa noticed with a blush. She was a shy, gentle soul. She was very much interested in talking to Mr. Smith, but way too nervous to approach him. Y/N was particularly eagle eyed, and she had noticed Mr. Smith’s stare and smile linger on Christa when he walked in. She knew no sparks would fly if someone didn’t push Christa to get his attention.

“ Smile at Mr. Smith, Christa”, Y/N instructed.

“ He’ll notice your beauty”, Nifa chimed in. Sure enough, the man had shifted his attention to Christa. She was the most beautiful girl in the room in his opinion, and he hoped he’d have a chance to speak to her. Marceline Smith was getting a drink and chatting with some of the ladies at the ball. Mr. Smith was swooning over Christa and shaking hands with some of the men, but Mr. Ackerman remained as detached as ever. He wanted nothing more than to leave this party and retire in his room. He wasn’t interested in anyone or anything at this party, and it showed in his blank, bored face.

The three girls were deep in conversation again, but they were interrupted by a very animated Mrs. L/N.

“ Come quick”, she squealed before dragging her daughters and husband to the reserved area where Mr. Smith and the rest were.

“ Ah, the L/N family”, Mr. Pyxis exclaimed before turning to Mr. Smith.

“ Mr. Smith, may I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and their daughters: Christa, Y/N, and Mikasa”, Mr. Pyxis introduced. Mikasa was one of Y/N’s younger sisters. She was a quiet and studious girl who rarely partied. But she came to this one in hopes of seeing a certain young boy. Y/N wouldn’t have noticed Mikasa if Mr. Pyxis didn’t introduce her.

“ I have 2 more daughters: Sasha and Ella. They’re dancing somewhere in here”, Mrs. L/N smiled.

“ It’s a pleasure to meet you”, Mr. Smith pleasantly returned.

“ You already know my eldest daughter, Nifa”, Mr Pyxis started again.

“ And to you all, may I present Mr. Ackerman of Utgard in Rosa”.

The group bowed before leaving. Christa, Y/N, and Nifa retreated to a more secluded part of the ballroom. Christa chatted with them for a short while before getting up to converse with some of her other friends, leaving Nifa and Y/N together. For some time, the pair were the only people in that part of the room, till Mr. Ackerman had come along with a beaming Mr. Smith following behind him. There was some distance between both duos, but Y/N could still hear their words.

“ You were dancing with the only lovely girl in here”, Mr. Ackerman commented.

“ Oh, Christa is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. But her sister, Y/N, is quite attractive too”, Mr. Smith responded.

“ She’s perfectly tolerable, if I daresay. But she isn’t enough to tempt me”, Levi remarked roughly. Nifa stared at Y/N incredulously. Y/N was offended, and disliked Mr. Ackerman even more now. Not only was he unfriendly and arrogant, but he was rude too. But she wouldn’t let him spoil her mood or fun evening.

Y/N exited the corner and parted ways with Nifa to seek out Christa. She saw Christa and her mother laughing with Mr. Smith. Marceline Smith and Mr. Ackerman quietly listened.

“ Ms. Nifa Pyxis is a sweet young woman”, Mr. Smith laughed.

“ Oh I adore Nifa”, Y/N said, pleased at hearing a gentleman compliment her best friend.

“ Indeed. It’s such a pity she isn’t very bonny”, Mrs. L/N said.

“ Mama”, Y/N said, annoyed and angry at this sudden jab at Nifa.

“ Oh, but Y/N wouldn’t ever admit she’s plain”, Mrs. L/N smirked. Mr. Smith looked shocked at her comment, having been an optimistic gentleman who didn’t like seeing and pointing out the faults of others.

“ Of course, it’s my Christa who’s considered the beauty of Trost”, Mrs. L/N bragged, embarrassing her daughters.

“ Mother”, Christa protested quietly, getting cut off as soon as she started.

“ She was only 15 when she started getting proposals from some of the most desirable bachelors around”, Mrs. L/N continued, her voice getting louder.

“ There was this one young man so much in love with her that I was sure she’d be married by the end of the month. But he did write her some very pretty verses”, she gushed, fanning herself. Both sisters were unsettled, and Christa was as red as a poppy! Y/N decided to divert the conversation.

“ Oh, yes, that. That was when I first discovered that the power of poetry drives away love”, Y/N cackled.

“ I thought poetry was the food of love”, Mr. Ackerman commented. This was his first time talking to Y/N. He may have seemed indifferent to her, but inside, he found her the brightest and most interesting lady in the room. Her wit was charming and her confidence was striking. She was bold and confident, very sure of herself and opinionated. A very rare type of woman in these times. He wanted to know more about her, he really did, but Mr. Ackerman was shy. He was introverted and awkward, and horrible at meshing with new people. He masked all this under his signature glare, and by following Mr. Smith around.

“ Yes if one is basic and so easily wooed”, Y/N smirked.

“ So what do you recommend to encourage affection then?”, Mr. Ackerman asked. It may have seemed like he was debating with her, but in reality, he was trying to understand how to impress her.

“ Dancing”, Y/N replied. Then she strutted up to him and got so close their arms brushed against each other. Neither Mr. Ackerman nor Y/N was blessed with good height, but the latter was shorter. So, she lifted her head up slightly so she was level with his left ear.

“ Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable”, she whispered loud enough for him to hear. And then she sashayed away to Mikasa, who was blushing at the words of a young boy of around her own age with a black man bun and emerald eyes.

Mr. Ackerman was shocked! He was embarrassed at having been overheard, and more so at having a woman like Y/N call him out. He gasped inaudibly and blinked his eyes furiously trying to grasp what had just happened. He looked over at Y/N, who flashed him a dazzling smile. Mr. Ackerman wasn’t used to being humbled like that, and his pride, which was massive indeed, had been badly hurt. The dance later on will be so awkward, he thought. God I hope she won’t be my partner, her gloomy sister, Mikasa was it? Yes, her, she’ll do.

But despite all of this, Mr. Ackerman couldn’t help taking sneaky looks in Y/N’s direction, and he hated it, but a small part of him was actually impressed by her no nonsense personality.

None of this was missed by Marceline Smith.

“ Levi, are you alright?”, she lisped, smiling sweetly.

“ Yes”, he said curtly.

“ Are you sure? Did that Y/N girl say something upsetting to you? She’s too firy, don’t you think? And her dress is most plain”, Marceline Smith pointed out.

“ No, she’s rather a refreshing personality in my opinion. And I judge women by their heads, not their gowns”, Mr. Ackerman shot back. He was getting tired of Marceline’s attention on him.

The last dance of the night was one even the new trio joined in.

Marceline Smith was with a tall man with a brunette mullet Y/N vaguely remembered as Jean Kirstein. Mr. Smith and Christa were dancing with each other, and Mr. Smith’s unblinking blue eyes twinkled as Christa blabbered on to him. Christa could be quite the chatterbox when she lost her nervousness! It was clear that Erwin Smith was enchanted by her. Unfortunately, Y/N was paired together with Mr. Ackerman. The pair was the only silent and awkward one in the room.

Both sides were glad when the ball ended and they could go home. Y/N was in Christa’s room, squealing about her and Mr. Smith after ranting about the rude Mr. Ackerman. Mr. Ackerman, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about what Y/N had said to him.

Mr. Ackerman then remembered that she was much lower than him in the social pyramid, and that she’d be an unfit wife. She had also bruised his pride. But then again, why wasn’t he terribly upset about that?

[satorutini]

So Hot (You’re Hurting My Feelings)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 2.1k

a/n: a whole year later, thanks to quarantine, i have returned. a drabble i made purely projecting my own feelings bc being isolated has made being far from loved ones very difficult to bear lol. so here is some fluff to help get you thru this fuckery. heavily inspired by this bop.

In the blaring fluorescent bathroom light, the strain on your eyes as you look at your phone takes twice as much effort as it should just after escaping the dimly lit dance floor.

Raising the screen an unnecessarily close distance to your face, you frantically attempt to unlock your phone, making an almost inhuman sounding hiss of annoyance when the facial recognition feature doesn’t work the first time. A quick glance at the mirror in your peripheral dawns a grim understanding; with the way you look, you wouldn’t recognize yourself either.

Three attempts later (your thumb kept pressing 6 instead of 9) grants you access to your messages and your heart drops. You swear - you swear - you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and there definitely was a text notification-

The panic resides almost as quickly as it came at the sight of the thin blue loading bar crossing the top of your screen.

Koo appears bolded at the top of your inbox, and your heart soars. So, he didn’t entirely erase his memory of you and shackle up with some rich influencer snob in SoHo.

Koo [11:37]: ok, be safe:)

You deflate. It had been 30 minutes since he had read the text letting him know you were going out for the night, and a good two hours since you had sent it. You had been hoping for him to crack a joke or ask for a fit pic, or even whine a little that you were going without him. But he had only displayed the bare minimum of concern. Not even a fully written okay. Not even a real emoticon.

Slumping against one of the stall doors, you sigh. It’s not that you wanted him to worry about you while he was miles away in Manhattan. It was quite the opposite actually; before he had left, you had practically been his biggest cheerleader in advocating for your boyfriend to go after this internship and live his collegiate experience to its fullest potential.

So why did you feel so vulnerable without him here?

It was fine, the first two weeks. You texted back and forth almost every hour, staying up late to call each other on the phone. A plethora of video calls, photos and memes shared over the span of the first 14 days as you silently vowed to not let the stress of a long-distance relationship weigh you down. But then came the third week. Then came the second-guessing. Over-analyzing missed phone calls or shorter-than-usual exchanges over text usually led to you jumping to the completely irrational idea that he had forgotten about you, or cared less now that you weren’t constantly in the same proximity. It was a stupid concept, you already knew. But this will be the longest that you’ve been apart from each other in the little over a year that you’ve been dating, and you can’t help the inkling of anxiety that comes with this experience.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you turn to fully face yourself in the grimy bathroom mirror. Is it bad that you’d been hoping for more from him? Maybe a picture or another question? A response longer than three words? The flow of conversation had gradually lost its familiar ease, replaced with this subconscious feeling of uncertainty that left conversations feeling stale. In reality, he’s probably working late or getting ready to go to sleep. You vaguely remember him mentioning a project he had been assigned to work on, and it seems as though his workload as grown progressively tasking as the semester comes to a close. The last time you had seen him over a video call, he had dark circles under his eyes despite how animatedly he spoke about the work he was doing. You also remember begging him to get a good a goodnight’s sleep when he found the chance.

Yeah. That’s probably what it is.

Should you text him back?

Your fingers slip behind the edge of the phone, fully ready to whip it out again when a couple comes stumbling into the restroom, the door swinging back to hit the tile wall with a bang! The girl, at least, has the decency to look sheepish and makes to apologize until her partner sidetracks her with kisses down her neck. You don’t bother with anything more than an embarrassed grimace through pressed lips before glancing the other way, though mostly more for yourself more than them. Squeezing passed the enamored pair through the door, you make your way back into the thick of the club, albeit a little more reluctant than you were when you had first arrived.

Your friends are might be off the dance floor by now. Returned to the bar, maybe. In all honesty, you had expected your presence in the “girl’s night” outing to be a bit of a vibe killer anyways, with how forlorn you had become in the past week. You had spent the whole car ride to the club switching anxiously between Instagram and snapchat trying to see if Jungkook had liked your last post – you, dressed up to go out for the first time in a while, definitely not fishing for a compliment from him – barely contributing to any conversation. If your friends were aware of your growing preoccupation, they hadn’t said anything yet.  It wasn’t that you couldn’t live without him, in fact, you’re a little more than perturbed by your own attitude tonight. It was that there was this lingering feeling that something was always missing. Like the fact that Jungkook wasn’t readily accessible or just within a short drive’s reach tugged at your heartstrings. Comfort. A grown familiarity. Something to fall back.

The moment someone jams their heel into your ankle you realize you’ve been standing catatonically near the middle of the dance floor, shaken from your reverie of self-pity as you nearly lose your balance. Disoriented, your vision blurs for a moment in an effort to right yourself. Glancing around, you can’t catch a glimpse of your friends. Your heartbeat thumps just about as loud as the music’s bass. Your right foot throbs in your heels. Feeling your face growing hot, you press a hand to your cheek, only for it to come away wet. I think it’s time to call it a night.

Overwhelmed, you make for the exit, and are fortunate enough to bump into one of the girls who came with you on tonight’s excursion. With a hand securely on your wrist, she leads the way back to your group, shimmying your way through the crowd. 

It’s well around 1 a.m. by the time your friends drop you off at your apartment. Albeit simple tasks, the process of taking off your heels, hanging up your coat and undressing takes what feels like an eternity. In the span of time it took for your friends to finally regroup, leave the club and take you home, you have not once looked at your phone. Cold from inactivity, it feels like metal brick in your hands, and wears on your mind with the weight of a real one as your trudge into your bedroom. In all that time he hasn’t texted once. Granted, it is pretty and it is your turn to reply. But what is there to say besides ‘okay’? You gently toss it on your bed on your slow march into the bathroom, half hoping to hear the gentle buzz of a text notification.

The idea of fully cleaning yourself up sounds like more effort than you’re willing to exert right now, so you settle for a makeup wipe, knowing well enough that your skin will hate make you sure you pay for your laziness in the morning. That’s a problem for tomorrow you to handle, you decide. Changing into an old shirt of Jungkook’s feeling slightly more refreshed, you allow the promise of sleep to lead you back to your bed. Although you’d hate to admit it, the mental gymnastics you go through with your insecurities over what seems Jungkook’s gradual withdrawal from you mentally exhausting. You avoid unlocking your phone until you’re completely submerged in your sheets. Squinting into the light of the screen, your heart sinks at what you see. The only recent text is a goodnight from the friend who dropped you off, announcing to your group chat that she’s made it home safely.

Not wanting to fall asleep feeling disappointed, you spend the better part of an hour swiping between Instagram, twitter, tiktok, and then Instagram again in search of a smidgen of serotonin despite the late hour. Most clips get nothing more than an exhale through the nose, the disappointment from tonight still lingering at the edges of your mind. You glance at the time, calculating the time difference between here and Manhattan. There was a three-hour gap; he should be well asleep by now.

Against your better judgement, you open your messages and hit the call button anyways, thinking that at least if he doesn’t pick up you can dismiss it with practical reasoning. However, much to your surprise he picks up after the second ring. Laying on his side, nearly mirroring your position, Jungkook’s form greets you cocooned under a myriad of blankets. His hair sticks up every which way in the front as though he’s run his hands through it too many times. The low light his screen emits casts shadows under his eyes and gives his skin a pale complexion. Immediately you regret your impulsive decision.

You both open your mouths to speak.

“Sorry!”

The word is blurted from your lips before he can even begin to form a sentence. Your boyfriend blinks at you. “Hm?” is his only response, voice groggy with sleep.

“I’m so sorry, were you asleep? Did I wake you? Shit,” the despondency you were feeling before only grows tenfold now that you’ve actually interrupted his rest. A string of apologies follows as you fumble with your phone to hit ‘end call’. It’s only Jungkook’s sharp call of your name that halts your hysteria. “Wait! I was waiting for your call.”

You pull the phone a little way away from your face. “You were?”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, processing your incredulity. “I was.”

“Oh.”

“I fell asleep but I was waiting for you to text me when you got back home. Like you usually do.”

“Oh.” It was common for you and Jungkook to share whenever the other went out and or was coming home late. In your own distress, you had forgotten to let him know when you arrived home. The thought provokes the image of Jungkook, curled up in his cramped rental in New York, drifting off with his phone in his hand as he waits to feel his phone vibrate. It nearly breaks your heart. “I-I must’ve forgot. I’m sorry, I figured you’d probably be busy or asleep by the time I’d come home. We haven’t exactly talked much today.”

“But you called anyways?”

“Wishful thinking?” you shrug with your one free shoulder. “Didn’t think you would pick up.”

“Hmm.”

You and Jungkook share a guilty look. What’s this odd feeling that’s creeped into your heart? Insecurity knots a tight feeling in your chest.

“I missed you today.”

And just like that, it’s gone.  The million questions dissipate like a fog clearing from your mind as you inwardly scold yourself for your own irrational thinking

“Yeah?”

You often wondered if he thought about you as much as you thought of him. Outwardly, he was seen as the bigger sap between the two of you, but often you found your own thinking to become the floweriest of prose when it came to him. You found memories of him in even the smallest things, like the taste of spicy foods, in the smell of lavender or in the sound of someone opening a bottle of sprite. You found him at the edges of comic book pages and in the first notes of an acoustic song. You wonder if he could find bits of you about the city. If he ever thought of you, waiting on him hours away, outside of the times when it was deemed obligatory.

“Do you not miss me every day?” You wiggle your eyebrows to insinuate a playful dig, but the both of you are well aware of the tinge of honest curiosity underneath.

Jungkook offers a tired smile, but in that moment, the genuine adoration in his eyes is all the affirmation you need. “Every day, all the time.”

[sugarfreecapsicle]

neighborly -1/2

moodboard by the one and only @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan 

moodboard by the lovely @ohcaptainmystan

this is part one of two in a little story I came up with for @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge! hope you enjoy. part 2 this week!!

NeighborAU

Glass shatters, jarring you from your too vivid dream involving cotton sheets with impossibly high thread count and distinct male perfection settling over you with a sheen of sweat painted over his body. Heart pounding and head throbbing from the immediate barking of your dog has your body flopping back to the mattress and pillow with heaving breaths. Count to ten before you react. Think of a third party perspective. Don’t do anything rash.

But it’s the third time in as many days, and a working woman can only take so much before she has to write a strongly worded note to a noisy, inconsiderate, low-life neighbor for blatant disregard for anyone else’s existence on their complex floor. You kick at the sheet that’s wrapped itself around your foot as you stumble out of bed and slam your hand onto the bedside table in search of a pen and paper.

Hours later, Bucky’s head is swimming with white noise and regret. He never should have listened when Natasha begged him to watch the cat while she went out of the country. The menace ruined his blackout curtains, puked all over his bathroom and living room rugs, clawed the feet and legs of all his wooden furniture and had all but eaten the lining underneath his couch. No space in his home was safe, no corner left undisturbed by the svelte feline. 

Steve had even created what briefly had been titled the “Vlad-you-little-shit” jar to which anyone must contribute money when complaining about the cat. Bucky alone could have fully funded Natasha trip abroad with the funds earned over the weekend. 

With breakfast out of the way, he skirted out of his own door and nearly slammed his own toe in the door to shoo the cat away from his desperate escape. His keys jingled in his thick cotton pocket, lounge pants adorned with sheet music from West Side Story. The plastic wrapped newspaper sat in a lump by the welcome mat, but a new addition in bright neon pink stuck to the grungy plastic.

Noisy Neighbor,

Maybe you’re new to the complex, but tenants here appreciate peace and quiet at 2 AM when everyone else is asleep except night shift nursing staff and your goddamned hellian of a pet. Unless your guest is celebrating a beautiful marriage every night, please cease and desist all glass breaking, radio playing and anything louder than a Boeing 747 taking off from La Guardia.

Sincerely, 

Awake Acquaintance

Bucky shook his head and grimaced. Solving this riddle required waffles, bacon, coffee and maybe third party consultation. 

Your entire day at work passed by at the pace of molasses in the dead of winter.

In Antarctica.

Dragging your heeled feet up the stairs of your Brooklyn apartment seemed to be enough cardio for one day after your restless night of soothing Beau’s response to your neighbor’s continuous noise during the worst hours of the night. Four days in and it was becoming almost impossible to remember when you had more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep. 

On your door perched a stark blue sticky note.

Annoying Acquaintance,

Don’t believe we’ve met, and doubt I’d like to given your own howling alarm can’t help but wake up the entire floor in the span of five seconds of his singing. He’s very off key and really should consider keeping his day job - especially since he is far less likely to piss off surrounding neighbors like myself who value their sleep. 

Signed,

Not-So Noisy Neighbor

The note crumples in your hand as you barge through your own door, Beau’s claws skittering around the corner with a wiggling butt in tow. A happy grin and lolling tongue make it impossible for you to even consider being upset with him. No, this was Noisy Neighbor’s fault entirely for permitting drunken bar fights to happen in his apartment. 

Seething over your reheated leftovers from Pietro’s Pies, you peer down at Beau who eagerly chows down on his bowl of grain-free dry food mixed with roasted turkey breast leftover from your sister’s potluck. 

“Don’t follow my example, buddy,” you murmur through a cheesy bite of pizza, “you keep eating healthy so you can bite the neighbor’s sorry ankles.”

He pays you no mind as you glare at the note rumpled on the counter. If it was war this stubborn, pigheaded snob wanted, fine. You could manage that.

Steve’s rigorous 5 AM training routine couldn’t be followed on barely three hours sleep, and Bucky knew better than to try to keep up mentally in conversation as the two jogged together through the park. The metal prosthetic tugged at his shoulder as he pumped his arms in tandem, strides and pace matching his blond friend. 

“You didn’t hear a single thing I just said, did you?”

The pair slowed to a stop, Bucky leaning over to rest his hands on his knees. “Over the fake hangover I have? Not a word.”

Steve chuckled and rested his hands on his hips. “The cat hates you.”

Bucky nods in defeat. “Feeling’s mutual.”

“It’s just a cat, Buck-”

“Like hell it is,” he snaps, pointedly eyeing Steve. “That thing is a curse on anyone who crosses its path. A bane on humanity. A pox on my family.”

“Dramatic,” Steve laughs and hands his cohort an aluminum water bottle. “When does Natasha get back?” “Not soon enough,” Bucky chugs half the water easily, wiping the overflow from his mouth and jaw. “My neighbor left me this uptight note about noise like I have anything to do with that thing terrorizing my apartment.”

Steve notes the spark of motivation in Bucky’s voice and smirks. “And what did you do about it?” “Takes two to Tango, Stevie,” he laughs and lightly taps his metallic knuckles against his friend’s shoulder to prompt their return to jogging pace. “Neighbor won’t see what’s comin’ next.”

Admittedly, the exercise set Bucky’s muscles into a pleasant thrum of adrenaline that carried him up the stairs two at a time. The bounce in his step faltered then broke into an aggravated trot as he neared his door.

Another pink note.

Boisterous Butthead,

It may occur to you, should you remove your head from your ass long enough to listen to neighborly concern, that other residents here in the building may have complaints of their own about you and your rowdy pest. Some may be inclined to report you to the super but have refrained from drastic measures in the hopes that you might see reason. Consider this your last pink slip.

Terribly Tired Tenant

Heat rose from Bucky’s chest over his neck and into his ears, blood roiling. Brooklyn wasn’t cheap no matter how anyone sliced rent - and he’d be damned if a cat of all things got him kicked out of the only affordable place left in the borough.

His sneaker-clad foot toed the door open, met with claws and teeth viciously attacking the rubber and fabric. Bucky eyed the old piano across the room and smirked.

Terribly Tight Tenant,

Try pulling the stick out of your ass before inspecting mine. Your barking nuisance is disturbing my cat’s natural instinct to hunt. Unless your mutt has eaten them, I’ve left some OSHA approved ear plugs for your sensitive ears. Get a life that doesn’t involve me or mine.

Rested Renter

It’d taken you a few years into adulthood to finally figure out how people ended up in prison for murder. The ear plugs were already trashed, but you’d decided to keep his notes for proof of his intolerable behavior when you clicked send on your completed email to your super. 

Just a click.

But you couldn’t pull the proverbial trigger. No, this was personal. Extremely personal and an affront on your sanity.

You’re knocking at his door before you realize Beau’s fluffy head is sticking out of your door with ears perked in curiosity. You move to shoo him inside when your neighbor’s door staggers open, tenant wiggling and fussing at a screaming cat. 

He’s tall, hair cropped short, sharp jaw and icy gaze. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole, he’d be attractive.

“Can I help you?”

Oh no, he’s definitely attractive. He’s holding the door mostly shut, clearly blocking the cat’s only escape route. Paws are stretching through the crack and snapping back again furiously.

“Your cat is-”

Beau barks and his paws skid on the laminate flooring in his attempt to greet his potential new friend, but you’re too quick for him and scoop him up into your arms, tufts of fur wafting through the air. You sputter, hair tickling your lips.

“Not my cat,” he finishes for you, a hand at his hip. “Your dog is bothering my friend’s cat.”

You manage a glare at him once Beau lets his body rest in your arms, tongue lolling as he inspects the hallway from his new vantage point. “My dog is not bothering your cat, jerk, he’s protecting me.”

“From a broken vase in the next room? Right. Real big, bad guard dog you’ve got there,” he says, Beau licking at your opponent’s fingers and knuckles happily. “He’s real tough.”

“Look, keep the cat under control or I’ll file a complaint with the super about the noise. I have to work two jobs to afford this place on my own, so when I get to sleep, I’d prefer it be peaceful. I’m not asking much-”

“Then you obviously don’t know this cat.”

You roll your eyes and walk back to your door, hauling Beau over your shoulder to dig for your keys. The jingling catches the small tabby’s attention and has her crying louder, clawing viciously at the notch in the doorway. 

“Sounds like it’s better I don’t.”

Your door is shut before Bucky can admit he’s swallowed his pride.

[oliverhqs]

✧ °˖ — ( casey deidrick. cis-male. he/him. ) looks like oliver carmichael just signed back in at the front desk. word around is, that they’re only staying at the northern star because his family took their annual family vacation to their manor and he decided this year he didn’t want to stay amongst his insufferable relatives for the duration of the trip, so he found somewhere much more relaxing to stay instead while he explores ireland by himself. apparently the twenty-seven year old can be a bit apathetic & opinionated. but their open-minded & relaxed personality usually makes up for it. i hear they like to play piano, paint, and read in their free time. it makes me think of them as a quiet mid-afternoon walk on the italian countryside, staying up throughout the entire night in a dimly lit room talking about books, philosophy, love, and the stars, & well loved sheet music sprawled all over the floor and desk.

hello potential, friends !! i’m late the to party as usual but this ball of anxiety goes by the name of rue ( she/her pronouns ) and i’ll be playing Angsty Boi™, oliver carmichael. if you would like to hit me up for plots / scream about connections all night long, please give this a big ole like and i’ll come bouncing like a happy ferret in the snow to your DMs !! under the cut, you’ll find a brief biography and stats about oli’s life. you can find all my connections here though if you want to check those out. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: slight talks of cancer and mental health are mentioned below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

NAME. oliver alexander carmichael.

ALIAS. people usually just call him by oliver but sometimes oli makes an appearance.

TITLE. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

AGE. twenty-seven years old.

GENDER IDENTITY. cis-male.

PRONOUNS. he/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. he currently lives in east village in new york but he travels quite often for his job, so residency usually fluctuates depending on how long he stays there. 

BIRTHPLACE. new york city, new york.

NATIONALITY. american.

RELIGION. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was eighteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to oliver, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in God. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english (fluent/main), french (fluent/2nd main), italian (still learning but can understand it quite well).

EDUCATION. graduated with a bachelors in music therapy and minor in visual arts at brown university.

PROFESSION. works as a freelancing artist in his spare time as he work full time as a music therapist.

layer two: about.

When someone hears the name Carmichael, they automatically think of words like prestigious, wealthy, and perfect. And who wouldn’t? With the father being a State’s Attorney and mother owning her own real estate business, you had to think like that. In the public eye the Carmichael family was flawless. Lilian was the always supporting wife who thrived in raising money for fundraisers and showing off her cooking skills and David was being a husband who brought home piles of money and was devoted to his family. Everyone wanted what they had. Oliver Carmichael was born into a world where perfection was of the utmost importance. The Carmichael family are one of those prestigious families that has always been full of wealthy and high-class snobs, and Oliver’s parents were no exception. He grew up learning how to be charming and handsome, and aware of his superiority over those of inferior to him. Oliver’s childhood years consisted of him sitting restless at various fancy parties and dinners, while his father kept him from all the treats so that he would grow up to be fit and strong. Oliver’s father was always cold and emotionally isolated from him; only after a perfect son to show off to the world.

He has a brother, who is three years younger than him, named Nathaniel. His relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged just like with their father. As much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they tend to butt heads often. Whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along.

As a young, restless little child, Oliver sought escape from his shallow, chilly life in the form of a friend. His friend taught him that there was such thing as warmth and friendliness, told him lots of stories of Greek mythology, and he learned that his father had been lying about “tactless individuals” being horrible people. However, when his father found out about his associations with his friend, within a week, the boy mysteriously disappeared. Since then, Oliver kept all his unapproved-of friends to himself. Unfortunately, as time went on, Oliver grew up to become a lot colder and more isolated like his father—leaving the feeling of pure joy of meeting that friend he met long ago, had vanished. With his family situation being completely dysfunctional and rottenly horrible, he never experienced what being happy was all about.

Sometimes calling someone selfish is a gross exaggeration, but in Oliver’s case its right on-point. Eventually in his early teens he became distracted, always preoccupied with his own affairs and matters of interest. Whether it was schoolwork, his multiple and usually explosive relationships, or his many existential crises, Oliver was one for waving people away and turning the conversation back on himself. This wasn’t necessary out of narcissism or some hidden agenda: Oliver genuinely doesn’t know who he is. Perpetually fidgeting and restless, it’s not uncommon to see him rapidly flicking a cigarette lighter, or playing with his hair, or bouncing on the balls of his feet. In high school he’s brilliant: it’s that simple. He is the golden boy. Prone to spilling into intellectual spiels - and labelled a know-it-all - he internalized everything, memorizing tiny details, eyes skipping here and there. His intelligence is among his most useful traits and is by far the thing he values most about himself. Much of his ego is built around the confidence that he is effortlessly smarter than almost anybody he encounters. Knowledge is power, and he weaponizes his superior intellect, using his brains more than brawn to protect himself and intimidate the people he doesn’t care for.

Although his parents were the bane of his experience 100% of the time, his mother wasn’t all that insufferable when she had her moments away from his father and not trying to be this pristine ‘perfect’ woman beside her husband. In fact, throughout his childhood she often encouraged Oliver’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. His mother had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as she explained to him—kindness has power, and that she would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death. Cancer/mental illness TW—when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Upon hearing the news, Oliver’s whole world clasped.

Not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), the only important person who had actually showed him any kind of love in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. So many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. He has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. Thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. However, that didn’t and doesn’t stop Oliver from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. The entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

Despite issues with his own family, Oliver has a lot of personal of his own he deals with. He is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. Though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. He doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. Rarely opens up because of this. He usually distracts himself from his insufferable emotions with hobbies such as playing the piano, painting, and reading some of his favorite classics. After he moved out the house at eighteen to pursue college and became more independent, he started to come into his own style with his wardrobe. To put it simple, he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. No joke. No seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. It’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon. He strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself—not just through photography and painting—and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. Because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo. His appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of hipster shit. His clothes can be very flowy like, but don’t let that fool you. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you. His hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

After he graduated high school, he furthered his education at Brown University where he majored in Music Therapy and minored in Visual Arts. At the age of twenty-one he graduated and about 6 months later started working as a freelanced artist while working at children’s hospital as a music therapist.

[lifeasannpc]

hi, i’m new.

*holds out a serving platter*

would you like some, uh, assorted headcanons about ghouls?

Aether:

- worked in the infirmary before joining the band as he can use his powers to heal minor wounds. however, doing so tires him out pretty quickly. to prevent such fatigue, Aether trained himself in physically treating a range of common injuries and ailments

- adores sports. this ranges from watching sports to playing sports to just thinking about how excited humans get when talking sports. has started up an intramural soccer team at the abbey. no player is 100% on the all rules but together they are at least 96% functional.

 - absolutely not a morning person in any sort of way. is generally pretty jovial and friendly – except for first two hours of the day. has a very predictable sleep schedule and fates help you if he’s woken up before his usual time. the fam has gotten used to giving him ample space in these morning hours

 Cirrus:

- the mom friend – but do not for one second assume she is going to passively field everyone’s complaints when they aren’t putting work in to fix them. she’s a wonderful listener but one of her worst pet peeves is when people constantly come to her for advice and never take it or worse, expect her to fix the problem for them  

- a killer dancer. everything from classic ballroom styles to club bobs, she can do it with precision, grace, and passion. if given any opportunity, her and Swiss will absolutely tear up a dancefloor together

 - toes the line between beer connoisseur and beer snob. has a seemingly unlimited knowledge of hops, fermentation, the impact of packaging on depth of flavor, the most pronounced notes in a $18 microbrew, etc. will not judge if you order an inferior beer, but will inform you as to why you’re wrong

 Cumulus:

- your resident occultist. need a reading, cleansing, or spiritual tune-up? she’s your gal. has put immense time and effort into honing her craft and as a result, is also probably the most capable when it comes to using her elemental powers

- the most literate when it comes to social media management. runs a blog that is updated every three days on the dot, knows how to construct a concise yet humorous and socially insightful Tweet, and can turn any old scenery into a beautiful Instagram pic. has been known to assist humans and ghouls alike in setting up dating profiles

- gets embarrassed hella easily. the type of embarrassment that causes her cheeks and chest to get all blotchy, her voice to crack, and make her want to hide in her room for the rest of the day. it took immense encouragement from the gang and rigorous practice for her to be semi-ok with playing and providing backing vocals in front of a crowd

 Dewdrop:

- can be a vicious perfectionist regarding his own work. will spend hours practicing the same two bars over and over and if he can’t get it right, he’ll get into a dark mood pretty fast where he keeps at it but due to his frustration, screws up even more and it’s this gross downward spiral. it usually takes someone to intervene before he snaps out of it

- if permitted, he will eat the same thing every day for weeks on end. it depends on what he’s fixated on at the moment, but this may range from something relatively healthy like carrot sticks to complete garbage like funyons dipped in bbq sauce

- this is a secret from most people but is an avid listener of ASMR. was introduced to it on a whim by Cumulus and after being initially weirded out, found that it was actually very relaxing and helps him either focus on a task or quiet his mind after a stressful day

 Mountain:

- absolutely loves reading and in any spare moment he’s got a book or article or pamphlet or whatever the fuck else with words on it in his hands. appreciates all sorts of genres but prefers nonfiction. this has made our boi Mountain the go-to source for any information regarding history, religion, and current events

- probably the most organized of the fam. tends to be the one who knows when meetings are, what city they’re in, and where they’re going next. keeps detailed notes on occurrences, supplies, and grievances so even though he’s generally a quiet guy, is usually the one that gets finagled into leading any sort of presentation

- will just. wonder off for hours on end. no one knows where he goes or what he does and he always returns on time but sometimes that dude’s just gotta roll out. this habit used to piss off or worry the others, but they’ve mostly gotten used to it at this point

 Rain:

- is just a total nerd. he’s shy about it, but if asked, he can talk for ages about game mechanics, fan lore, and media critique. he’s ecstatic when he can get the fam together for a board game or RPG night

- people don’t often expect it, but he’s super handy. drawer off its track? he’ll whip it into shape. need to install a digital thermostat? got you covered. car engine not turning over? he may not know immediately what to do, but he will sure watch has many youtube videos as he needs to get a handle on it

- an extroverted introvert. as in, especially when he’s been drinking, will hastily agree to join social situations that he later regrets being a part of. is the leading expert in constructing clever excuses as to why his plans have changed and ghosting parties

 Swiss:

- this dude can cook. ghouls don’t have to eat as regularly as humans so oftentimes, they don’t necessarily develop well-rounded culinary techniques. but swiss has figured out that a good meal can go a long way in wooing someone or just bringing people together. has taken the time to study up on diverse flavor profiles, which he employs often to impress a date or a crowd

- while he may be smooth, he’s absolutely terrible at emotional consolation. he of course never does it on purpose, but nearly always manages to say the worst possible thing if someone is angry, sad, injured, whatever else. if he doesn’t accidentally say something to escalate the situation, he’s being unbearably awkward about it

- the name giver. hands out nicknames like candy and doesn’t just stick to one. may refer to the same person by five different names in the span of five minutes.

 General:

- upon summoning, ghouls are assigned numbers and are usually referred to as such by the human clergy. they pick up their nicknames from fellow ghouls over time

- Swiss, Cumulus, and Dew are the most “technically” proficient with music of the ghouls. they can sight read, have little trouble picking up the basics of a new instrument, and have acute ears for pitch and rhythm. they occasionally go off on jargen-laden tangents during practices

- it’s basically a crapshoot whether ghouls are affected by human substances like alcohol, caffeine, or pot. but generally, if you’re affected by one thing, you can be affected by them all. Mountain, Rain, Dew, and Cirrus are the only ones in the squad who can be under the influence of something

i’d love to start up some kind headcanon/writing thing! so hit me up with your feedback or ideas (sfw or nsfw) about the ghouls or the papas/copia!

[far-away-stars]

THE EXTREMELY DETAILED OC ASK MEME for Iegan AND Apate!! I warned you. :P Stay tuned for more. Probably.

There you are. At the best of my abilities. may it curse your sleep and bless my crops. :’D

under cut cause it’s damn fucking long. 

Illyrio

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

So, I don't really have month/day precise birthdays for my ocs? :'D I don't even know how that would work on SW and I suck at star signs so… I can say Illyrio is born in 3682 BBY and that makes him 42 during the events of Makeb (which is the year he meets Muhn, if that works as a reference), and that I fancy calling him a Scorpio cause I guess it kinda fits. 

2. Gender Identity

Cis man. It never really went further for him, he always was comfortable that way.

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Bisexual. Married to Muhren in 3637 BBY in canon universe; alternatively fancying his mess agent Blakk in other ones and .. well, both in some others. >>

4. Race and Ethnicity

Human, in SW standards, and then I couldn't really go in many more details 'cause, well, I still kinda want it to apply to his universe rather than trying to stick Earth labels and I don't have a clear faceclaim… let's stick to "not white".

5. Height and Body type

He's 1m77 aka 5'9". He's not overly muscular, but still very much in shape. He has a pretty athletic body even if he's essentially built for agility.

6. Headcanon VA

I cannot find headcanon VA for the love of me, so, well, I suppose simple the Inquisitor VA for now. :'D Euan Morton is a Broadway actor and singer after all.

7. Occupation

Dark Council Elite, leader of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy, with direct oversee on the Voss' diplomatic situation.

8. Weapon of Choice(?)

already answered here

9. Hometown and current residence

He was born on Ziost, in a slave breeding and training facility. He lived some years in an apartment at Dromund Kaas but now has set residence in his mansion on Voss, despite his work not often allows him to spend long periods of time there.

10. Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

They have a number of scars, most prominent being the slave marking on his face, the whip scaring on his back and the lightsaber mark on his chest.

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Aside from the slave markings and, I guess, the white hair (not that much of a significant feature when alien races are involved :'D ) he doesn't really have any, no.

12. Own any pets?

Nope, thank the Force, he doesn't have to deal with his daughter's Nexus anymore and he's happier this way. 

13. Have any kids?

Yes, his daughter Khatyrkite, that he had at 23 and adopted when she was 7.

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

No. Let's leave it to that. :’D

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

They can sing but it's not that easy to make them. They can formally dance with dignity, but not much else. Too rigid.

16. Can they drive?

Yes, but prefers to be driven around.

17. Can they fight?

Yes, double-bladed lightsaber and Force training. When younger he was also quite dangerous bare-handed but he hasn't trained that skill in a while.

18. Have any special keepsakes?

Not really… his lightsaber, I suppose. Old beads for his braid. But he isn't emotionally attached to many of his belongings. 

Interests

19. Hobbies

Some not-so-light reading, meditation, napping, listening/going to the Opera.

20. Clothing/Aesthetic

Dark clothing with gold accents, rich reds, furs, and expensive tastes. Sith aesthetic meets some vague Arabian vibes and have a hedonist child.

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

He likes finger-foods; salty, small quiches are probably some of his favorites. As a drink he likes fruity and spiced wines, cold or hot.

22. Fave Color

Blood red.

23. Fave Genre

History books.

24. Fave Season

Autumn.

25. City or Country?

He spends enough time in the city working, so country for his relaxing times, but he wouldn't give up the comforts of the City easily.

26. Guilty Pleasure

Power? Witch sometimes turns into sex.

Storytime

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

Before Muhn his family was basically only his daughter, Khatyrkite, and they were close, despite Illyrio's initial efforts not to be so. She grew on him and managed to slowly but surely make his fear more of an after-though. He didn't want to get attached to someone so easy to love. An alien child with no practical education thrown into the Academy of Korriban? Khatyrkite had to work hard to prove she could do it. And he did make her work, considering it necessary that she could prove and defend herself without her father's title to protect her. They have great affection for each other, even of it's often left unspoken, and even if not as strong as before, they still have their Force bond to prove it, even to each other.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level? 

They are literate, and learned most of his basic knowledge during slave training. The rest he took up keeping company to the young Master during his studies and generally during slave life. Then there was the Sith Academy and then he was taken as an Apprentice and Abraxas finished his education. He learned the rest on the way.

29. What was childhood like?

Not much of a childhood, let's say that. Studies, collars, biological engineering, slave training directed into obedience and alienation to self.

30. What was adolescence like?

Spent serving as a company slave in a high ranking noble family in Ziost. Let's say stunted.

31. What’s their current main conflict?

Finding any peace between overworking and starting to let go but risking losing status/power and a certain state of security born from habit.

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict

Trusting more of his emotional baggage, vulnerability and work on his husband.

33. How have they changed over time?

He has become less.. unstable. Sith training following his slave one had pushed on many of the emotions he had been repressing beforehand, so, well, it made for a powerful Sith, but not much of an emotionally stable individual. He got in touch with more of himself and on what truly he wanted to be for his Muhn. 

For Fun

34. What’s their room look like right now?

It's a mix between his rich but organised deco and Muhn's pretty clutter and his plants. Rich, elegant colors overall, generally elegant but comfortable looking, cushions, big bed, big windows, woods, a library. His room is his comfort place, really, and probably one of the rooms he spends more time in aside from his training room and the gardens.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Bad. Bad-ish.

36. What are they like as a partner?

He.. gets better at it, given a little time. >> The sex is good.

37. Do they have any phobias?

They are not fond of deep waters, but can manage them. They detest Force inhibition devices.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

They haven't gone in one in… dam forever. They wouldn't know at this point, really. It's a mix between wanting to be in a place where he wouldn't be recognized and his desire to keep his status and power close.

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

Rich, hot, spiced coffee.

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

Depends, they are very used to an irregular sleep pattern.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

Depending on how much time they have, the very least composes shower and a minimum of beauty care, they usually pick their clothes the day before. They usually snack something quick if they have the time and take a caff or directly a stim, if need be.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

That's not to be discussed here.

43. What pokemon would your character be (if they’re already a pokemon/gijinka tell us what they are, and how that’s affected them)?

I.. don't really know? Struggling between a dark type or simply a snob-looking one.

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

Dear Force, so.. Any snake Pokemon is valid and he should have them, this being said : 

Arbok

Serperior

Ninetales

Spiritomb

Sableye

Chandelure

+if I may, a couple of legendaries that rule the Sith snake aesthetic :

Zygarde

Shiny Mega Rayquaza

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

I will always put "How can I refuse" here, no matter the consequences. :'D

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Oh my god, I don't have that knowledge. Something low and a bit fear-inducing, but with a melody of strings, violins and violas, cutting it like the fresh falling of rain in between dark, tempest-heavy clouds. Some quiet, deep, rich drums.

The Deep Lore™

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Discovering he was Force Sensitive.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Lowest : his years at the Academy. Highest : Becoming a Darth/marrying Muhn.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story? I'm sorry, I'm getting too stuck with some of those deep© questions, I'm giving them up for now. :'3

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Villainous behavior, hedonism, manipulation, pragmatism, hyper-emotionalism.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Well, the Inquisitor storyline from STWOR, certainly, tho I didn't end up keeping much of it. Aside from that nothing really comes to mind but I'm sure I'm missing stuff. :/ In six years he has been through stuff.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

We struggle with other people's expectations and we don't want to be seen as weak or exploitable, I suppose. For how different we are I suppose the rest is pretty more obvious, but, mhn, I blame myself much more quickly, despite my barriers, so, well, instead of killing people I just get sad, I suppose. :'3

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

I expected a hot, sassy, dark side playthrough. I guess I didn't expect the angst, the fluff and the attachment. :'33

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

He wants power, but he needs to unlearn what truly gives him value.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other? see point 49.

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

They.. eh. I don't really believe in endings? People go on, one way or another. He's much more than a simple narrative for me, now. If I were to just see how much he has already done in his life I would say he's in a happier place now, so, I'm glad. But that's not who he is either. It's not about getting him fixed, not really

---

Apate

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

Born in 3678 BBY, the rest is not in my book. :’3

2. Gender Identity

Non-binary/agender, intersex.

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Bisexual, kinda taken by Kitty, but it's in the "it's complicated" folder cause we technically didn't even set a meeting point for them. :'D also, precedently entangled with Mikawlas, and generally involved with many other . >> 

4. Race and Ethnicity

Togruta. Their faceclaim-ish is Ezra Miller, so some ethnic inspiration there.

5. Height and Body type

They are 1m81 aka 5'11". They are slender with some athletic features, especially on the abdominal area. 

6. Headcanon VA

I have no clue. :'D I'm sorry.

7. Occupation

Went from sex worker to owner of the Golden Rose Pleasure Center.

8. Weapon of Choice(?)

Sniper Rifle. They don't really consider their body or their pleasure expertise a weapon, no matter its potentialities.

9. Hometown and current residence

Grew up in a Coruscanti orphanage, now resides on Nar Shadda.

10. Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

Aside from their natural Togruta markings, nope, and if they were to get them/had got them in the past, wouldn't hesitate to have them removed.

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Lekku and Montrals? :'D they are curved in the front so they do catch the eye.

12. Own any pets?

No. They didn't have the position for one for a long time and then never really gotten to it. Probably scared they would do a bad job taking care of one.

13. Have any kids?

Nope.

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

They can't really, no. :'3 they can manage a survivalist meal but they essentially rely on other to get food.

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

They can't really sing, but it's not a passion of their so they never really did any practice worth of it. They can dance, but only a selection of simple things, essentially for their job. They don't mind dancing casually, and are pretty good at it. At least, they are pretty to look at doing so.

16. Can they drive?

They can, they shouldn't, but they can. :'D

17. Can they fight?

They are better at ranged combat, but they can throw a hell of a fight nonetheless.

18. Have any special keepsakes?

I'm not sure if they have anything of Mikawlas, or even of their orphanage life.. they spent too much time on the street, if they managed to salvage something during those years it would certainly be a precious possession for them. 

Interests

19. Hobbies

Taking care of themself with beauty products or with a mani-pedi is a luxury they couldn't afford for a long time and it does marvels to their mood so they indulge in gladly it when they have some me time. Also they have a sometimes strained relationship with their looks, so making themself pretty makes them happy. Aside from that they like simple pad games, to run and spend some time in shooting ranges.

20. Clothing/Aesthetic

They like shiny, they like precious fabrics, gold, their heels, shorts, skirts and dresses, some fashionable frills and classy, eye-catching outfits. 

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

They like experimental foods, jellies and escargots the most probably. If they could only drink vodka and lemon sprite they would. Also champagne.

22. Fave Color

Rose Gold.

23. Fave Genre

Detective/crime stories.

24. Fave Season

They haven't experienced much of those, living mostly in ecumenopolises, so, if it's not artificial weather they probably would have complaints one way or another. Something temperate I suppose, late spring.

25. City or Country?

City.

26. Guilty Pleasure

Aside from sex? Mhn. The thrill of the hunt, maybe. But both of those things have been incorporated in jobs for a long time, so, well, aside from having a particular relationship with both, defining them "guilty" pleasures is complicated. I guess they like being pampered, sexually or not, so there's that.

Storytime

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

They don't have a family, nor good memories from the orphanage, so, probably the closest they got to family was, first, at Madame's institute, where they really come in touch with a positive collective/community. They started coming in touch with themself and with others in a way that was more than family than ever before. Of course they wanted to rebuild that with the Golden Rose, even if it became with times more "officious" with the number of workers and clients and regulations that came with it. But they do want people to feel safe with the Rose, and want them to feel at least a little bit like family.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level? 

They are literate, and studied at the orphanage until they left, so, they are not very knowledgeable after that. They didn't continue studies, only tried to pick up some decent bases to start being more independent after Madame picked them up. They worked hard to be functional as owner of the Golden Rose, and that's where they are at. 

29. What was childhood like?

They weren't very happy at the orphanage, didn't felt like they belonged. It ended up with them running away, so...

30. What was adolescence like?

A mix between rebellious orphanage life, naive Nar Shadda and bling/bling fascination and the basically spoiled, responsibility-free life as a Crime Lord doll. It was.. maybe not as practically formative as it could have, overall.

31. What’s their current main conflict? I'm sorry, I'm getting too stuck with some of those deep© questions, I'm giving them up for now. :'3 

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict? see above

33. How have they changed over time?

They became more self-aware, more conscious of themself and their choices. More independent, and such, with a bigger presence, allowing them to also create better and stronger bonds with people. With a helping hand they started shedding all the bad preconceptions they had on their life, even if it really took years and years to come to terms with some truth about themself and their past, but well, they got back on their feet. Now they have a house, they pay bills, they own and handle a host house that oversees many people that Apate wants to protect. So, well, I can't really tell how they changed, cause they didn't, not really. It was still them, all along, but I guess they own themself a bit more every day.

For Fun

34. What’s their room look like right now?

It's a pretty big room, but essentially on the minimalist side. Very clean and shiny, with its marble floors and big window on the High District. It's not cluttered and Apate doesn't spend that much time in it, but when they do they find it more peaceful for it to be essential but pretty and expensive looking in its decor and composition.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Devoted, sometimes harsh and too up-front, but also generous and affectionate.

36. What are they like as a partner?

They haven't had much experience in that field yet, so, maybe, distant, even if not on purpose. They are not really used to the practicality of building ties so ever-present and strong, they are still very much used to deal with things on their own. But very sweet, very tactile, very inquisitive, playful.

37. Do they have any phobias?

Of losing themself in someone's idea of them. Again.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

They haven't taken a vacation in ages, they want to quite bad. Anything different from Nar Shadda would be welcome, but they probably want the pampering vacation treatment. They do have an affinity for water, because of their ex, so maybe somewhere they could swim a bit.

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

Everyday something different, they don't like caff but drinks it daily so spicing things up is their way. Now it's usually Terjam that buys caff for them, so they enjoy being surprised.

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

It depends, the Rose usually "opens" late in the morning and closes later at night, but it depends if there are events or not, and if Apate has plans or not. They are more akin to the night life, and Nar Shadda Never really sleeps, so it's not unusual for them and some friends to have late evening shopping sprees or date nights or such. It will depend on how much work there had been during the day.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

They take their time. They wake up slow and then stretch and drink water and then shower, quick breakfast with either milk/yogurt/sweet cheese and some fruits while listening to radio/the news, and then make up and dressing up and then to the Golden Rose where they take a coffee and some pastries with Terjam before starting work around 10:00.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Thinking it was a good idea to escape to Nar Shadda with no money or friends or knowledge of the city at the peak of 15 years old.

43. What pokemon would your character be (if they’re already a pokemon/gijinka tell us what they are, and how that’s affected them)?

Zughhh... Tsareena.

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

Shiny Goldeen

Gorebyss

Mega Diancie

Mega Altaria

Alola Ninetails

Sylveon

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

I don't really have one, ahh… Lady Gaga-ish feelings, but not as "hard".

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Mhn, something lively and clear, but with a solid accompaniment, like some piano. Maybe a discrete but deep beat underneath, like almost a techno base.

The Deep Lore™

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

There's been two. One when Mikawlas died, and Apate found themself mourning, furious, hurt and dependent on the little skills they had to survive from there on. The second was when Madame picked them up and helped them detox and then got them back on their way to manage themself independently and redefine boundaries in a way that could better connect them to themself and a thriving comfort zone.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Apate almost lost themself, and skipped many steps of their emotional and practical development growing up in not-so-healthy environments. They never really had a family, they rushed and yet mellowed through their adolescence without any real friends of their age, they suffered a big loss pretty young and then started living off favours and on the street without really a support and foundation to evolve. 

Then they got back to their feet, and found their ambitious drive again, and created the Golden Rose and wasn't that just *chef kiss*.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Former drug addiction, stunt in personal growth and past trauma being overcome, sex work and its relation to their own sex drive and desire, curiosity and extroversion, sex positivism, grooming, fashion and beauty care.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Unsuspected assassin, Diva, fashion expert, sexy and capable, sass master.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Mhnhnjnnnn I dunno. There are pieces here and there but.. nothing that flashes in my mind. 

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

We like shiny things. They can pull it off.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

A character for smutty action, and I kinda got myself into angst but also a more vivacious and free-willed character I expected. 

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

They want the Golden Rose to thrive, they probably need a vacation.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other? see point 31

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

Same as Illy's point.