#( I JUST LOVE IT ENOUGH TO DEDICATE A SINGULAR MEME TO IT )

[soulprompts]

send in " knock, knock. " for the sender to show up on the receiver's doorstep, knock on their door, and as soon as the receiver opens the door, the sender grabs them and kisses them passionately.

[avelera]

for the emoji ask meme:

🥺 and/or ✨️

p.s. thank you for the joy your stories bring :)

Aaaw, thank YOU, I'm glad you enjoy!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Hmmm, I'm gonna go with Hob and Dream for this one:

For Hob to Dream, I think it's any time he wittingly or unwittingly he tells Dream that he loves him as he is, full stop. That Dream doesn't have to do more to win Hob's affection or earn it, that Dream is enough as he is, and also that there's no "gotcha" waiting in the wings, there's nothing in Dream's past that's going to jumpscare Hob into leaving, because he's got a past as well and he's not going to hold Dream to a different standard than the one he hopes to be held to himself.

(Granted, in "Come live with me" and "Giving Sanctuary", which this refers to, they're both quite soft for each other and already very ride or die. And this doesn't preclude Hob asking to be treated better from day to day in CLWM, or GS Hob never being horrified by something Dream has done in the past, but the love itself is unconditional.)

I think it's because Dream has had such terrible experiences with love being transactional (from his parents) and with being abandoned (admittedly, often for his own terrible behavior) or when a relationship simply fades away, feeling like he wasn't enough somehow. Hob has the added facet of not falling in love with "The Lord of the Dreaming" or "Dream of the Endless", he didn't even have a name to call Dream for centuries! And maybe Hob is a bit crazy for loving Dream despite all that, but then, Hob is crazy to love life as much as he does given what he's gone through over the years, so I see him loving Dream with the same dedication and possible insanity that he loves life because even if Death is technically the one to give the gift, for Hob at least, I see his love of life and love of Dream, for all that both are flawed and difficult and imperfect, as deeply intertwined and perhaps just as incomprehensible while being utterly undeniable.

Dream hearing that, hearing that he is enough, that he is loved without the trappings of his office by this impossible person, that he doesn't have to do more, that he doesn't have to measure up, he doesn't have to give some material benefit in exchange, and that Hob would have loved him from afar even if they kept to only seeing each other once a century, is something I think would deeply impact Dream and also something he needs to hear for him to begin to shed his cruel instincts, icy exterior, and knee-jerk expectation of love as transactional.

For Dream to Hob, I think it's when he sees him. In both CLWM and GS, Hob is deeply affected by Dream's undivided attention on him, it's been such a rare commodity up until now. CLWM is more a story of Dream slowly falling in love and trying his damndest not to, so the moments when he really sees Hob's good qualities and responds to them are deeply impactful to Hob and get me in my feels too.

Hob has lived so long, and to have someone, anyone, who sees all of him, all the way back to who he was in the 1300s, means so much and is so impossible to ever have from anyone else and is so singular with Dream having been there and paid attention to him and listened to him, even if Dream was sometimes disinterested or rude from the start, he is the only one capable of seeing all of Hob and who took an interest in doing so. I think the older Hob gets, the more he falls in love with Dream just for that, even if Dream never gave him anything more than an hour of interest, once century at a time for eternity. It's precious and it's irreplaceable.

Giving Sanctuary is much more about Dream seeing Hob and he's already past the hurtle of acknowledging Hob as someone worthy of his attention. If anything, GS is more about Dream not feeling worthy of Hob, still feeling like he must earn Hob's generosity and not realizing (see above) that it isn't transactional, there's no point of accomplishment he needs to reach where he can finally make his feelings known to Hob without guilt. But he sees Hob already, he feels seen by Hob, and given that this connection happened over the death of their sons, something Dream has carried with him and not shown to anyone, never truly dealt with means Dream feels incredibly seen in a good way as well, in a transcendent way, really. He'd give the world to Hob right now just for how overwhelming it was for someone who wasn't afraid of him to reach out and acknowledge that pain and offer their own and tell Dream he didn't have to carry it alone and that someone loved him enough to want to help. Dream sees Hob's good qualities right now when Hob is incapable of seeing them, or at least, of seeing them as anything noteworthy.

It's a bit "blink and you'll miss it" but in ch. 16 when they have the Dreaming sex, Dream has some rather curious dirty talk for Hob, all around seeing him and being seen. That really gets to the heart of the love Dream feels for Hob in GS, that there's no one else not even his siblings or his retinue like Lucienne or Jessamy, who see Dream and not Dream of the Endless and who see him for a father in mourning instead of as a terrifying lord or a brother they don't fully understand or as a servant to his office. Only Hob sees a person and a man and the parts of Dream that Dream wants someone to see when no one else does and who still loves him for it. And in return, Dream is currently quietly and not so quietly completely in love and obsessed with spending time with this person and sharing every part of his life with him. After all, Dream's rarely if ever had a personal life before this that isn't his family, his office, or tied up in his role as the Lord of the Dreaming. Frankly, he's probably a bit high right now on experiencing what it's like to have a personal life and one that isn't rife with drama and tragedy for once.

[gyroshrike]

for send me a character and i'll tell you meme: hmmmmmmmmm -eyes recent reblogs of a certain bronze troll-....terezi! -runs away trollishly laughing-

For the “Send me a character and I’ll tell you…” ask game

Tavros

JOKES ON YOU. SOMEONE ALREADY SENT TEREZI, SO I GUESS YOU’RE STUCK WITH THE BRONZE TROLL. WE DOIN’ TAV, BABEYYYY

My NOTP for them - Flushed Tavrisk! Flushed Tavrisk! FLUSHED TAVRISK! I have honestly never had an stronger notp than this one right here (not including ships that squick me out of course). You know it’s this singular ship that’s keeping me from reading The Serendipity Gospels? I want to read it SO BAD! BUT I CANNOT GET MYSELF TO DO IT. I CANNOT.

My BROTP for them - This might go Nepeta and Tavros. I LOVE those two. They didn’t talk much, but Nepeta was very nice to Tavros and I don’t think that was an off shoot thing. (A pattern I have noticed on how I judge characters a lot is How Nice They Were to Tavros.)

I’m always a huge sucker for characters who love animals and THEY BOTH LOVE ANIMALS. They’re two big sweetie hearts that love animals and playing games and silly artsy-fartsy stuff. Tavros would probably think the fact that Nepeta draws is super cool. They would never make each other feel embarrassed or criticized for any of their interests or idiosyncrasies.

Tavros roleplays with her, even if he’s awkward at it, without any comments or other jabs about it. He expresses genuine disappointment when she can’t be on the red team with him, but he’s also kind and understanding about it.

My OTP for them - Looks up from where I'm buried under a pile of pbj sandwiches. Don't mess with me, flushed Gamzee♥️Tavros is my Homestuck otp of otps.

My second choice pairing for them - Hmm, this might be pitch Equius♠️Tavros, but I'm going to save that one for another answer. So, this one will probably go to DaveTav. I enjoy both pitch and pale, but I think I like pale Dave♦️Tavros better. The idea of Tavros and Dave each thinking the other is the Coolest person, while simultaneously trying to play off that they're cool, is just an absolute favorite of mine.

Imagine if Dave secretly loves and admires that Tavros is wholeheartedly passionate about things, even 'nerdy' or 'cringey' things by Dave’s definition. He is sometimes a little envious that Tavros can just just... not care about irony or pretending something that is cool is uncool because it being uncool makes it cool yadda yadda. He feels like Tavros is so genuine (it’s kind of the same reason why he’s drawn to John).

Then Tavros canonly went on about just how ridiculously cool he thinks Dave is. And I feel like we never get to see Tavros get that hyped up about another person? Aradia said he’d wanted to meet Dave so bad. It’s just insanely cute how much Tavros values Dave, even though all he silly trolling they’ve done to each other, Tavros adores hanging out with Dave? And they really enjoy rapping to together? It’s cute as fuck, man.

Then the two of them both realizing the other has low self-esteem? But I feel like their doubts they have in themselves are different enough that they won’t feed into each other. Dave would have the bravado Tavros needs to shrug off hurtful comments and Tavros is soft and genuine in an unironic way that he would give the kind of reassurance that Dave really thrive under.

Moirails really help each other grow and it’s interesting watching how Tavros wants to rise up and meet Dave’s challenge. He doesn’t seem hurt or scared by the words or teasing Dave does. Flustered and nervous in the moment for sure! But it Tavros goes out of his way to prepare for his conversations with Dave. He’s dedicated to figuring out how to best interact with him (even if most of his motivations are to troll.) But Tavros reaches out to both Rose and Aradia to try and facilitate interactions with Dave.

Dave makes Tavros want to show off his ability as a peer, not as a hero or savior like he wanted to do for Jade.

All this is kind of why I think they’d be great in most quadrants, flushed, pitch, or pale.

My fluffy pairing for them - Not exactly a pairing, but I love how Kanaya seemed to be someone who really stood up for and looked out for Tavros, even so much to harass Vriska, her crush, into being nice to him. Kanaya was the one who told Tavros to name his self-confidence and to not hurt "his" feelings. ;0; I'm really into humanstuck AU's where the Maryam family is really close to the Nitram family. Pesterquest also solidified this with the role Kanaya played in Tavros' route. In my AU, Kanaya's family reached out and helped Tavros' family financially after Tavros' accident.

My angsty pairing for them - Angsty pairing? Oh, hmmmm... I suppose post canon things (no epilogues or hs2) with Gamzee and Gctavrosprite tend to make me very sad. :( Definitely a very angsty iteration of the ship. It has to be done very particularly for me to like it. I also suppose anything that includes Gamzee meeting either dead Tavros or any other timeline Tavros in bubble fucks me uuuuup. Can you imagine Gamzee meeting a Tavros from a timeline where he and Tavros had been matesprits?

Oh! There's also that fan theory that the horrorterrors are eons old, long mutated Gamzee's, and I make myself sad over the idea of a horrorterror meeting Tavros who doesn't really have any memories of being a troll left, but knows instinctively upon seeing Tavros that Tavros was something important. And it's just this massive monster entity that Tavros can hear the dark whispers of like "whoareyouwhowareyouwhoareyou don'tremembercan'tremember buthappyhappytoseeyouseeyouseeyouseeyou"

Now for the last two questions, I'm going to rearrange them because my weirdest ship for them kind of feeds into my favorite polyship for them.

My weirdest pairing for them - I suppose EquiTav isn't THAT weird of a ship, but it felt weird to me for a long while because I just couldn't wrap my head around the possibly of it. But recently, I've really sat down and thought about it. It started with the idea of pitch Gamzee♠️Equius. And I love that ship, but sometimes I get all sad over thinking about Gamzee hating, being annoyed with, or being mean back to Equius.

Then I realized... actually, I could see Tavros getting really annoyed with Equius and the things he does and says. Equius has a bigoted view of the hemospectrum, so check, that's going to be obnoxious. And Tavros does in most cases try to stand up for himself when he's being pushed around (Vriska just doesn't listen and is better at shutting him down.) But I think Equius would be a bit quicker to back down when challenged in a way that would put him and Tavros on a bit more equal footing. (We already know that Equius likes being order around by lowbloods because of the social inappropriateness of it. Also, Equius is stubborn, but he's not... a bully. He's also not violent or dangerous to other trolls that we see.

And something about pitch rivalry is the push to make the other reach their potential. Equius is pretty caught up in bloodcolor, but he also has a few moments where it implies that it's much more of a taught belief than one he genuinely wants to keep feeling. He tells Vriska "EQUIUS: D --> I would very much like to honor my position on the hemospectrum and mistreat those beneath me, and yet..." And we all know he would DIE for Nepeta. So that can be part of his growth with Tavros! Having multiple low quadrants challenges his stances and beliefs. Tavros is also really nice. I feel like having a rivalry with someone so nice (as well as a moiraillegience) could challenge him to perhaps see how to be nicer.

And Tavros would have someone frustrating and stubborn to work on his self-confidence with who doesn't actually put his emotional or physical well-being at risk when he stands up to them. (Well, not intentionally, Equius is very STRONG after all.)

Tavros and Equius have this very interesting specific angle for me of either becoming unintentionally closer because Equius had to learn intimate things about Tavros' body to make him a new pelvis and new legs. They end up spending extended amounts of time together to help Tavros adjust to his robo-legs, be that asking questions, helping him stretch, fixing things that aren't right, adding new features. (There's no way Equius wouldn't give Tavros a nook and bulge, sorry, not with his dedication to quality and also being as lewd as he is LOL.)

Also they'd bond over animals! Tavros having a bunch of horses come and say hello to Equius? Or any other small cute animals? Equius would be so thrilled and happy! Ahhhhhhh

My humanstuck AU, Reunionstuck, has Tavros acting as Equius' dom for a while, as a friends with benefits kind of thing. They end up bonding over bringing their career fields together, Tavros' veterinary focus being disabled animals and Equius' focus being engineering and prosthetics. They work together on professional projects find that they have a very good working relationship, even if Equius is frustrating as heck to work with sometimes.

My favorite poly ship for them - Probably some mixture of Gamzee/Tavros/Equius with some potential mixture of flushed and pitch.

Pasting from my Gamzee ask: Oooh, ho ho ho, love me some Gam♥️Equius♥️/♠️Tavros. Gamzee adores Equius so much tbh. Gamzee was just a huge sweetheart to Equius pre-game and just loved talking to him. Equius seemed pretty pitch towards him, but I think I like the idea of Equius letting himself be loved and recieve soft red affection from Gamzee is so cute.

In my AU, Gamzee and Tavros end up in a romantic relationship, but Equius maintains a close relationship with the two of them. Equius was very attracted to Gamzee back in high school and of course Equius and Tavros now have their shared experiences together. So now Equius joins them in the bedroom every once in a while and the three of them are very affectionate towards each other.

[camelliagwerm]

For the drabble meme, I'd love to know more about Valda, so..."armor" for the single word?

set just after the anvil of the void. cw for general deep roads horror, gore, decapitation etc.

valda tosses her shield aside with a loud clang that echoes through the chamber. a fresh cut mars her cheek, crimson blood trickling down her face from where branka had nearly got her in the eye. the grip on her longsword loosens.

and that's when the adrenaline and that singular focus to find branka and the anvil wears away. her skin clams up, sweat clinging to her brow.

"make camp." her voice is cracked from dehydration. "i want to take a chance to look around some more." there appears to be no argument from anyone, or maybe they're too tired to argue. valda doesn't care, either way.

she starts stepping around the inanimate golems towards the tunnels that lead into branka's gauntlet. branka's corpse is among them. her head barely clinging to her neck by thin strands of sinew, dark blood pooling around the stone. the paragon's face frozen in wide-eyed horror, mouth agape, greying hair barely covering the brutal wound that ended her life. a hand was still clutching the control rod. it had not been a clean, merciful cut, but in her anger, she hadn't cared enough to make it merciful. not when branka had been responsible for all the monstrosities in this stone-forsaken place.

valda kneels down next to branka and pries the shield away from the body; silverite, a masterpiece. crafted by the paragon herself, she notes, a gauntleted hand tracing over an etched smith's signature on the back of the shield. it could be worth a fortune back in orzammar or maybe she could use it hers— no. leave it for oghren. yours is perfectly serviceable, valda reminds herself.

"may you return to the stone, paragon branka," she says, "and the ancestors judge you by your innovations, not your experimentations."

she looks briefly over her shoulder; leliana is peeling off a leather gauntlet, wynne's silvered head bending over her with the faint glow of magic in her hands. oghren is standing with his back to everyone, looking at the shattered anvil.

onwards, then.

valda learns quickly that there are makeshift camps all over the deep roads that surround the anvil's main chamber; some are tucked away, others turned into brutally efficient makeshift traps to capture darkspawn for branka's trials.

among lyrium veins, she finds bodies impaled on spears, both darkspawn and dwarf alike. some are so old with decay that they are unrecognizable, others fresh enough that the corpse had not yet decomposed. in piles of rotting flesh and yellowed bone, she finds rags and rusting armour. her gauntlets become covered in filth, her skin becoming flecked with black blood, as she rummages through. yellowed, torn pages are found here and there, but nothing is legible.

if the orzammar's shaperate is dedicated to preserving memories and dwarven history, then the anvil of the void was branka's. every contraption that valda gingerly stepped over, every dead darkspawn was a memory of how someone from house kondrat died because of the paragon's obsession.

ancestors, help us all.

valda doesn't know how many hours has passed when she slumps against the cold stone. she lets her head fall back and her eyes shut; and she does something for the first time since her exile. she listens to the heartbeat of the stone; to the lyrium's song coursing through the veins that line the stone. the distant bubbling of molten lava that echoes through the chambers from where it pools below the nearby cliff where the anvil once stood.

and then — footsteps, heavy boots followed by the cracking of bones and the squelching of flesh. the putrid air being punctuated by the smell of strong dwarven ale. oghren.

valda opens her eyes and looks up at him.

"shit, warden, you look a right mess." he's holding his flask in one hand and a handaxe in the other. wordlessly, she gestures for him to sit down next to her. opposite is a pulsing lyrium node, bathing the side tunnel into a dim blue glow. "here. looks like ya need it."

he offers her the flask. she looks at it warily.

"you really think i'm gonna kill you after everythin' we've been through?" he sounds as weary as she feels. "i still don't mess around with my ale. and like it or not we're... we're the only family we got left."

"well then —" she takes the flask from him and drinks. ancestors, it's been so long since she's had proper dwarva ale like this. "to branka."

she passes it back to oghren.

"to magna," he replies.

[illustraice]

lead me out (on the moonlight floor) 

rating:  T word count: 7526 multiple chapters: 1/?

[ read on AO3 <3 ]

Chloe Bourgeois’ Capri Sun has a sheen to it. It probably reflects light on some poor freshman kid trying to navigate the hallways filtered with the fall breeze and the faint scent of student panic. She stays seated between the legs of the unbothered figure behind her and thinks that getting to class in time is, like, overrated and Alya Cesaire’s arms have to be comfortably occupied, thank you very much. If she had any time, Marinette would think it was moderately cute and a true testament to battling against The Wall of Heterosexuality, but because she doesn’t have any time between pushing her way through The Wave of Student Flesh and desperately clinging to her multiple binders, she starts to think it’s a bit of an inconvenience.

The Cesaire-Bourgeois Package Deal block a generous portion of the stair path; if the freshmen had any opposition to Françoise Dupont University’s ‘It’ Couple’s (of 5 months and 16 days, Chloe had announced in a lecture once) location of choice, they didn’t comment. Marinette scans the frantic narrow hallway and appraises her options; she’d very much like to get to Economics on time but there’s probably bad, weirdly homophobic, undertones to telling the Package Deal to please, get off the stairs and get to class. The two are glued to their spot, class time a weak thing to nudge their unwavering dedication to listen to whatever pop-indie playlist Cesaire has curated on her phone as they share the singular string of earpods. Marinette shuts her eyes for a few seconds, wishing Nino were here to pick up her courage off the ground to hand back to her so she can say something to the two about not blocking the stair path and making out in the next 5--or maybe 2?--minutes.

A trio of younger students scampers to the stairs, too careful to not bother the couple like if they were to make contact with even an inch of Cesaire’s varsity jacket, they would suffer a force of an electrical shock or something equally dangerous to the medical bill. Marinette wills herself to roll her eyes, hopes that whatever exasperation she has rolled with it. She’s near the duo enough to share a few words (maybe testimonies from other students about how much they want to get to class on time?), and slowly inhales preparing to speak when a smooth voice calls out behind her.

“Can you two get any more cliche?”

Somehow, through the blaring indie mess of a song--Hozier? A band Marinette doesn’t know?--Alya acknowledges the comment and offers a smile in the direction of the voice.

“Relaxation is key, Agreste.” she hums lazily. Between the confines of Alya’s arms, her girlfriend grunts intelligently.

By the time Marinette realises her conversational sacrifice is better off unrealised and makes her way farther up the stairs hurriedly, Chloe has put her earbud to the side and points a meticulously manicured finger accusingly.

“Find true love before you judge true love.” she preaches.

“What is that? Aristotle?” Adrien quips. “I think true love can find a way to stop blocking the stairs and scaring the freshmen.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “Find true love on your own first to prove it.”

Adrien sighs and for the short time being, curses his previous determination 5 months ago to force his best friends on a date. Instead of resulting in moderate disaster material he’d hoped would happen to use as some kind of funny leverage they could all laugh at one day, they’d turn out to be ridiculously compatible despite their exteriors and made out after a mere 45 minutes of the date. They’d laugh in the face of his ulterior motives, howling at him when he’d found them in each other's arms sickeningly in love later. He’d yelled profanities that it wasn’t fair that it actually worked (“It was supposed to be a joke! God, come on!”) as they snickered, all three clustered on his bedroom floor drinking his dad’s whiskey from the inviting and playfully restricted liquor cabinet (they’d been careful to pick an unenticing bottle stored all the way back). But truthfully he was happy for them, earnestly and annoyingly so.

Even so, their habits needed to die; like getting caught in embarrassing places making out or purposefully making out in front of teachers with Homophobic Tendencies (Adrien was more than supportive of that one but he’d also run several arguments on why it may risk them not graduating. Alya had just shrugged and said yolo) and now, blocking crucial stairways in their ferocious display of PDA. He quickly glances up above the stairs and thinks about telepathically apologizing to everyone who has had to wade their way through the duo. A figure with pitch black hair almost stumbles up in a hurry. Adrien wonders how he could send along the message that he grants them a pass to yell at his friends as a sincere apology.

“Can you two just get up and go to class.” he finalises. He looks down at Chloe’s cheer uniform and muses to himself that the near neon yellow in it is the colour of Chloe’s life.

Students still scatter around the area but they’re beginning to disappear to their classes. He makes way for a row of students running to the stairs and they thank him, eyes wild communicating some kind of cryptic message he thinks he can decipher as ‘save us’. He takes several steps up and flicks at Alya’s bun, strays of her hair bouncing. She doesn’t protest and instead takes some form of an effort to take his advice but it’s quickly halted by a suave kiss to her lips.

‘5 more minutes.’ Alya’s lips barely mutter against her girlfriend’s. The proposed time frame seems to be unnegotiated.

Adrien jerks his head up to the ceiling and groans.

-

When three chattering students noisily stumble their way through her Economics class, Marinette takes no note of it. She’s a little too caught up in what pretentious shade of red the bodice of the dress she desperately trying--failing?--to design in her Studio Arts class is supposed to be so that it passes off as something Dior would create. A deep, lusting flame colour or perhaps, maroon? Maybe? Frighteningly so? She flicks her head up momentarily to glance at a wave of varsity jackets and a singular cheer uniform. The chatter of the room increases exponentially. Alya Cesaire makes a joke or two to the professor that somehow saves her and her friends’ asses. The professor rolls their eyes but they turn kind and indifferently forgiving like they always are to Cesaire’s charm. A row of girls in front of Marinette swoon a little and it takes a moment for her to realise it’s directed at Adrien Agreste’s smooth greeting, the smile on his face so easy it reminds Marinette of toothpaste commercials. Chloe takes a claim beside Alya’s seat, a Capri Sun in hand and a look of undiluted boredom in another. She crosses her legs, pouts a little at her girlfriend, a form of formally beckoning her over to sit down already.

Seats are taken. Because Marinette has a brain and two whole eyes, it has always registered to her that the three are easy--a pleasure perhaps--to look at. Agreste’s a model even; his status of that is as clear as day as it is as cemented on the school’s Wikipedia and his flashy Instagram bio. But the force of all three was indeed a ridiculously attractive sight and Marinette would take her time to appreciate it all (really, she would!) if the stress of completing her portfolio hadn’t kept her occupied every ticking minute of her time in school.

She sighs and eases her eyes on Adrien Agreste who practically swaggers his way to his seat, playfully bickering with Chloe the whole time without either caring for volume much to the class’ entertainment. His soft, somewhat curled, bundle of hair practically bounces like it just has its own individualistic way with gravity. A hand tucked in his varsity jacket pocket and another loosely on the strap of his bag, he laughs at one thing or another said by Alya and Marinette thinks it’s a nice sound. A casually beautiful entity, she concludes.

Marinette’s eyes wander aimlessly at the board but she feels a pair of eyes on her anyway. Adrien’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, a hint of recognition on his eyes as he takes the steps above like he’s willing a vision to be painted in his head. Before she can look to him, his head turns away and he quips at whatever incoming remark from Chloe he had his way. Huh.

By the time the chatter dies down enough, Marinette has already decided the brief moment had been a mere daydream, a wander of aimless eyes at her in coincidence just like her own. She picks up her pen and writes her notes, stifling a yawn. Maroon, she thinks, is an easier colour.

-

Chloe’s bedroom floor looks a little like what Adrien envisions as an entire Sephora store. He’s not all that sure what that actually looks like but between Chloe yelling out to find fifteen different shades of lipstick and Alya lazily stacking more than forty eyeshadows on each other in some cosmetic version of Jenga, he thinks he’s right. His wooden chopsticks point to the takeaway stir fry in his hand and he’s debating whether to try out that powder thing, see if it does something or other. The view beyond Chloe’s perfectly oversized balcony is easy to look at, sunset views and all, and he thinks he’d like it a lot if he could stay there instead of the proposed agenda of the upcoming night.

Alya is sprawled out in her girlfriend’s bed, amusing herself with a meme or two on her phone. That doesn’t really satisfy Chloe who whines a little when she steps out of her closet, a yellow high neck dress tight on her waist. Adrien scrunches his nose and thinks the other dress--whatever he remembers of it--was probably better.

“Why don’t I look hot?” Chloe mourns. She slumps on a chair nearby, glum and decidedly not hot.

“I liked the other dress better.” Adrien offers, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t think he likes the stir fry either. God, they should’ve just gotten pizza but Adrien’s stomach had made some last minute ditch to stir fry just as they entered the pizza shop and he should’ve listened to Alya saying his stomach is probably making a mistake but it just seemed so good of an idea at the time.

Alya glances up from her phone and makes some kind of protesting sound. “You always look hot babe!”

“Yes, true.” Chloe agrees momentarily, ‘But I don’t look hot in any dresses tonight.”

“Just don’t wear a dress.” Adrien offers again. They should really be taking his advice, he thinks. He knows he’s not paying that much attention but they should!

“Adrien, get up,” Chloe says.

“No.”

Alya looks at him from the bed, targets his face to throw a pillow. It lands on the desired location perfectly and he thinks it’s probably a warning. “What are you not hungry for?” he hears Alya ask.

He shoves the pillow away, eyes still greeting the ceiling. “The stir fry is not good.”

“You know, where was this energy an hour ego before you dragged us to an extra twenty minute walk to get it?”

“I’d really like my stomach’s intuition not be insulted during these trying times.”

Chloe scoffs, “Yeah, yeah. But really, what’s wrong?”

Her voice had shifted to the softer tone Adrien knows she categorises as the tone only given when Chloe’s actually worried. Adrien almost thinks about lying, then thinks better of it. Chloe and Alya could probably perfectly retrace every single step he's taken in his life. It’s useless and his stir fry has probably gone cold. He sits up this time, the warmth of the carpet off his back. He contemplates first and realises he does not want to ruin the night, not even for himself.

“Don’t worry,” he says finally, quietly. Quiet enough for it to be a clear lie.

Alya and Chloe exchange looks. A brief silence passes, the type Adrien knows is a mutual agreement between all three to wait. It doesn’t have to be said now, the silence says. A beat later, Chloe continues mourning her temporary lack of hotness, whining to herself again as she re-enters the closet. Alya maintains her lazy protests against the statement, grabbing the stir fry away from Adrien for herself (“God, it doesn’t even taste that bad.”). Adrien grins, wills himself to look forward to his own party, thinking it’s better that way.

-

Marinette stares almost menacingly at the computer screen. Photoshop and her design glare back at her like it’s a contest that it’s winning. It’s only a sketch but Marinette starting to think that if she stares at it long enough, the dress itself will appear magically before her, having chosen for itself confidently what colour it’d like its own bodice to be.

Instead, it only leads to her wondering if her eyes are actually threatening to bulge out.

“Why are you having a staring contest with your own computer?”

Marinette doesn’t turn around. Nino’s voice is not enough to keep her from trying this whole make-the-dress-magically-appear concept she’s got going on. He will not distract her from this goal. He places a plate with pepperoni pizza on her desk, a likely and tempting distraction. She takes it anyway.

“Is maroon, like, a good colour?” she asks, taking a bite. Nino lands himself on her bed, his headphones dangling on his neck the way it’s practically glued to him. He chews a bit of his pizza in some kind of contemplation before he answers.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“The bodice of my design is asking.”

“Then no,” he answers.

Marinette does not like this answer. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t like any of the answers. She’s also sure Nino’s just talking out of his ass, but she appreciates the input.

“Man, have you even went out of your room since school?” he asks. It’s a genuine question, Marinette knows there’s no trace of judgement on his lips. But she’s also feeling a little jaded from the hours she’s spent on the design like it’s her lifeline enough that she musters some kind of look of feigned offense.

“I take that as a no,” he says.

Instead of answering, Marinette dumps her face flat softly against the desk. She realises all too quickly that this action in of itself is an answer.

“Okay.” Nino pulls himself up swiftly, hands clasped together the way it always is when he has a plan, “You look like you’re in the middle of a mid-life crisis at 21 and it’s just way too early for that. Get up, get dressed, put your hair up or whatever. We’re going to a party.”

Marinette grumbles. The idea, like every Nino idea, is perfectly acceptable, logical and has more than enough, the right intentions. It’s the execution, Marinette knows, that falters. Like how in kindergarten, he’d tell his best friend as their mothers shopped in IKEA that it was cool--yes, very cool!--to play hide and seek beyond the safety of the children’s play area, hiding away from the watch of the employees. It was practically genius to 6-year-old Marinette. Running away from boring IKEA-themed adults? Acceptable! Hide-and-Seek, the most thrilling game of century in a big area with lots of spaces to hide? Logical! Marinette and Nino had been bored out of their minds, un-enticed by the disgrace of a ball pit? The right intentions! It had been 15 IKEA employees yelling out the two children’s names for an hour later as they giggled away that had caused the fiasco to turn out to seem like Not Such a Genius Idea. The aftermath of their mothers’ disapproving faces had been another reminder.

‘Nino.” Marinette begins, “There’s a pros and cons list already made for that idea and I hate to tell you this, but there’s not a lot of pros.”

Nino considers this for a moment like he hasn’t already made up his mind. “There’s not a lot of cons either.”

The list is empty, Marinette says in their comfortable silence. Just like my head right now.

“Stop this.” Nino urges, “You need to get out. My best friend needs to come to this stupid rich kid party with me, eat a bunch of rich kid snacks and drink rich kids’ booze and live in the moment instead of looking like she’s about to go MMA on her computer”

Marinette doesn’t hate the idea of a party. She isn’t even opposed to them at all. Even art kids like her need their fair share of big gulps of gross alcohol and badly executed dances. But she also knows the only party of actual prominence tonight is Adrien Agreste’s, the golden boy of the Golden Trio. She thinks she might not like to throw up in his mansion or take up any form of social interaction when the exciting topic of Maroon vs. Not Maroon is the only thing on her mind.

In the time she took to contemplate this, Nina had dug out a pair of her black jeans and a halter top. He throws the clothing at her and she knows he has hit his target when she feels the material on the back of her head.

Marinette sighs the heaviest of sighs and Nino rolls his eyes. “Mari, you’re not dying.”

“Sure am.”

Like some kind of protest, he blasts some random 90s hit over the speakers from his phone. Marinette looks up, eyes already hazy and takes another bite of the pizza. Sixpence None the Richer blares like it’s trying to actually etch itself to Marinette’s ears. Nino joins in the verse but he’s kind of shrieking the way Marinette knows he does when he’s purposely trying to piss off the Choir teachers. Marinette stifles a laugh, then immediately groans.

God, rich booze really better be good.

-

His party is Very Good, Adrien intelligently evaluates this to himself. He’s in the middle of the dancefloor that’s really just his oversized living room, red solo cup to his lips. He’s not exactly sure what he’s drinking but he is sure it’s primarily responsible for the bubble of misplaced happiness to his body. He’s just a little hazy and deliriously warm and what the fuck is he drinking again? He dances between great friends, good friends, friends and not-friends-but-will-be-friends. Many eyes light up to his face in recognition, he happily recalls. The joys of being the host, he sighs in what he hopes is content.

The mansion is packed the way Adrien likes it when it’s a party--his party. It’s to blare out the loneliness inside these walls, the thought trespasses his mind. He frowns at it and systematically tucks it away in the space of gulping down all of his whatever-it-is drink and chatting to whoever is on his right. The wide-eyed girl smiles at him, polite and yet eager. He recognises her as part of Chloe’s cheer squad and she looks quite pretty tucking her hair behind her ears. Yes, very pretty! Is that pink eyeshadow on her? Adrien thinks it might be purple. They talk for a spare few minutes, slowing their movements a little. Adrien’s not entirely following whatever it is they’re supposed to be talking about it, but he knows he’s flashing his Good Smile and she’s flashing her Good Smile. And they look very nice, even! Yes! Wait, he halts, wait what?

“Agreste, you dumbass.” Adrien registers the voice as one Alya Cesaire but he’s not as quick to register the pull from the back of his jacket.

He’s dragged without grace across the other side of the room where the bar is set up, the crowd had parted like the knowing red sea with people laughing at his demise. Adrien’s arms flail in some kind of attempt to pull away from Alya’s force but he quickly becomes aware it makes him look like he’s drowning horizontally on dry land.

“Hang on there Adrien!” he hears Rose squeak but he can tell she’s grinning.

When Alya arrives at her destination, he finds Chloe perched on the barstool, chuckling at him. “What are you doing flirting with one of my girls?”

He feels a little caught in some kind of invisible lie. “Am not!”

Unfortunately, his voice squeaks the way it always does when he’s in a (drunk!) childish fit of defense. His knees wobble and Adrien wonders when jelly became a substitute for his knees? Did he authorise that? Alya and Chloe’s laughs almost thunder throughout the room, probably threatening to break walls.

“You sound like a 3-year-old caught in a lie.” Chloe snorts. Almost as if embracing this proposed age, Adrien pouts and sticks out his tongue. It’s stained red from his whatever-it-is drink. Has he been drinking wine? God, what is he? Above thirty?

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us wanna make out with our true love every 5 minutes.” he places his cup to the bar, motioning for the bartender to refill a drink. The man raises an eyebrow, asking what he’d like before Adrien says whatever is alright. In fact, he has been drinking whatever the whole night so he might as well continue. “Not all of us have found it either.”

“Don’t be so poetic in your own party.” Alya feigns disgust, “Call Aristotle or whatever. Make him do the labour. Your stuff is terrible.

“My stuff,” Adrien tries not to slur, “is very, very, very good.”

“He sounds very convincing.” Juleka nods as she approaches. She takes a sip of her drink and in an act Adrien can only recall as an angelic move, she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from the very bad consequences of his Knee Wobbling Fiasco. “Hold on there, buddy. The night has barely started.”

“You’d think Adrien would make it as a good act for the Debate Club?” Rose giggles beside her.

Chloe smirks, ‘You should register him now whilst he thinks his material is very, very, very good.”

The warm round of laughter from the circle erupts from this and Adrien delivers several glares to Chloe that they both know are just empty threats. He likes that everyone is having a good time, likes the obnoxious blare of music over the speakers and the familiar touch of everyone around the room he’s known.

“Adrien!” a voice bellows from the crowd. Adrien’s reflexes are painfully slow thanks to his whatever booze but he turns his head to spot the familiar figure, headphones on his neck. Nino always makes it easy to recognise Nino that way.

“My man!” Adrien drunkenly skips towards Nino, lunges his body weight at him. Nino somehow manages to handle the force of his bear hug and laughs, his body vibrating with it.

“How have you been?”

Adrien does not answer this question. Instead, he cries, “Nino, what the hell! Where have you been, man! It’s been, like, days! Without you, man! Without you!”

The group behind them laugh at Adrien’s speech, but Adrien is having trouble comprehending why. It’s been 2 days without his good friend! 2 whole days! He hopes the misery seeps out of him so they can understand his pain. 2 whole days!

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re drinking but it’s either that good, or you’ve overestimated how much you can handle. Again.” Nino grins, tries to position Adrien to stand. Adrien falls back to his arms like his body is lifeless. Was it? It sorta felt like it was.

“I am very good.” Adrien announces. He’s not sure who at.

“Don’t listen to his dumb ass.” Chloe laughs, “Have a seat with us, Lahiffe.”

She motions at an open seat near the bar. Nino smiles but his eyes flicker back to the crowd. He glances to Adrien, pulls a look like he’s going to say something mildly serious.

Nino slows his speech as if to consider Adrien’s quickly deteriorating brain cells. Adrien’s honestly grateful for it. ‘Hey, I’ve actually got a friend I’ve dragged along I’d like you guys to meet. Hope you don’t mind the plus-one, Adrien.”

No, Adrien doesn’t mind at all! Absolutely not! He wishes he could say something intelligent like ‘Of course I don’t mind! I’m happy for my huge ass hollow mansion to be filled up to suppress a bad ache of my loneliness!’. Or maybe he shouldn’t. So Adrien just shakes his head violently.

Nino smiles as if it completes his resolve. He leans Adrien’s body back to Juleka’s sturdy arms.

“Great. I’ll be back!” he wades his way into the crowd, the heap of bodies like some kind of transcendent disco-themed sea. Adrien takes a sip of his new--and hopefully improved?--whatever-it-is drink, hates it, then takes another sip.

-

Marinette remembers the order. Stay here for a sec, Nino had said, I need to talk to someone. What she’s not as diligent about is following through with it. Like a bad juxtaposition, she thinks, sipping through this party’s Rich Beer in her hand. It’s warm and fuzzy despite the unorthodox taste it leaves, maybe that’s the intended effect of Rich Kid Expensive Beer? But anyway, this bad juxtaposition weighs in on her. She’s hit with a weird pang of guilt over Not Following through with Nino’s orders. It’s not Acceptable (she’s broken an order), nor Logical (why is she wandering around in the gigantic space of this mansion where she can easily get lost amongst its weird sea of too many bathrooms?), nor does it have good intentions (she’s only helplessly so interested in the paintings surrounding the quieter hallways in this half drunken state).

Well, it’s not bad intentions, she debates, but it’s not Great Intentions. Marinette settles to herself that it’s Marinette Intentions, like that’ll help her explain this very reason of wandering around so clearly tomorrow. Nino will probably say something like what the fuck and then he’ll Not Get Mad at her because he knows pretty paintings are pretty paintings and anyway, why the fuck does Adrien Agreste have so many paintings? He doesn’t even paint! Never even been to a Studio Arts class! Never even suffered over Colour Theory or Composition or bad oil paint stains that go on perfectly good shirts that never come off even after, like, years of the laundry! Never even contemplated the deep distinction between maroon and not maroon! Marinette huffs and she thinks it’s one of her angry huffs.

Marinette thinks she’s okay with maybe swimming back into the sea of bodies, finding a pretty thing to flirt with and make out with for no particular reason for the night before she’ll slink back home. She’ll call an Uber and drunkenly recall the events to an indifferent and kind therapist of an Uber driver. She thinks it’s okay, yes it’s okay. She looks sufficient tonight, her lips are very glossy, very kissable, very capable of speaking to her future Uber driver. Her eyelids are heaped with a mauve shade, and Nino’s choice combination of clothing turned out well because he’s spent 19 years enough with her to recall whatever she says is ugly and not ugly.

But Marinette stares a little listlessly at the near blank hallways of the mansion. It nearly amazes her that despite it feeling like the world’s population was at Agreste’ front door, his mansion still seemed to have room. She waits for the wave of resolution to settle to her body, ending at the tips of her toes as to signal her feet to start moving in the desired direction. But it never does. Marinette sips the weird beer and takes this as a sign to stay in the dim of the hallways. Her eyes linger back on the painting in front of her, encased in a golden frame like it was a cliche. The acrylic sea stares back at her like the challenge her computer screen had once presented only a few hours ago.

Okay, Adrien Agreste’s house paintings, two can play that game.

-

Adrien’s footsteps carry the weight of the world. He’s pretty sure that’s not how gravity is supposed to feel like but in this state, he doesn’t really think physics is a concept he can grasp altogether. He had thought mindless dancing would ease his mind, make his body feel light as he tiptoes through the crowd. He sways along with the heat of bodies and he thinks maybe next time he’d like to hire a live weatherman in one of these parties to announce the approximate amount of degrees which he thinks right about now is nearing a million?

He’s dizzy, blissed-out like it hasn’t only been two hours into the party. His mouth feels like it’s on fire and drier than a desert at the same time. He’d chat to anyone who’d even so much as give him half a second of eye contact. He compliments something of anyone’s outfit and they’d say something like great party or Adrien get some damn water and then he’d flash his big megawatt smile reserved for nights like this or in daylight walking in the halls of the university like he’s shooting a never-ending commercial. If Chloe and Alya were concerned, they’d decided to voice their concerns for a later date and let him have his drunken fun.

For some ungodly reason, his mind rewinds to today’s events. Find true love to judge true love. Chloe’s voice strikes thunders in the thick of his cluttered haze. He grimaces, a little fondly. It’s one of those lines Chloe says without any real depth to it but he’s pretty sure the true love part has some weight on her part. Adrien sweats a little (or a lot?), thinks about Kagami for what feels like only a quarter of a second and then suddenly, several million years. He hadn’t let the ground beneath them turn solid, she hadn’t done the same either. So they’d just float in midair, aware they had nothing to land back on just like how he wants to feel weightless in this bulk of a crowd.

He’d kiss her once, in something like one of these parties. She’d return the favour back and it’d seem like such a comfortable tangle of lips at the time. His hand on her hip seemed fair, chivalrous, one of those moments of obvious destiny like how princes in Disney movies had no hesitation once they’d found their princesses. Once their lips parted, it was only then that he could hear the good-natured rumble of cheers surrounding them. Chloe had rolled her eyes, muttered something like I can’t believe you took that long, Adrien and Adrien had agreed on the statement. He’d grin so wide, the muscles on his mouth were a little tired of him. But Kagami’s eyes had been wide and curious and her teeth showed in her loosened smile so Adrien concluded that it had been so very worth it.

But then Kagami had sat down on his couch weeks later, shifting like she was not so sure of the space. As if the air inside was slightly suffocating despite the huge expanse of his second living room. Before her lips had open to speak, her eyes had already performed flutters of apology. Adrien thinks its almost pity but he’d shoved that feeling deep into the back of his mind before it could pose itself as a hazard to his psyche. She says what Adrien recalls as a blur of words. Sentences Adrien had heard loud and clear because Kagami’s voice was fit for presidential speeches or whatever, but were awfully disjointed like an awkward farrago. She hadn’t been sure, hadn’t thought it out, didn’t think it could work out in the midst of their schedules and oh Adrien, it’s not your fault but mine.

Adrien hadn’t processed anything, instead, he’d just theorised that the walls inside had somehow shrunk to the size of his body, squeezing the air out of his lungs. But he’d say things like it’s okay (it wasn’t), he’d thought the same (he hadn’t) and that he hopes they’d remain good friends. They did, in fact, remain good friends. Threateningly so. Then before he could blink twice, she’d jetted off to some lucrative fencing championship for the next 6 months like her life had been strictly scheduled to break his heart for one minute and be whisked away the next. The news of the breakup had circled ruthlessly throughout the entire student body within a matter of hours and Chloe had taken it upon herself to act as his publicist, telling everyone to leave him alone and yes, he’s going through a breakup-themed Spotify playlist, yes, he’d really like his privacy respected at the moment and no Nathaniel, he can’t share his Spotify playlist publicly go make your own

Alya, Chloe and him had raided the liquor cabinet that night like they would die the next day. Alya had ordered an obscene amount of pizza and Chinese takeaway. He wasn’t sure what the end goal was but between giant gulps of noodles, ice cream and diet coke (kind of disgusting), he concluded his friends had hoped he could also gulp away the sadness along with it. Well, he succeeded nonetheless. The next day he’d skipped along a path after classes, looked up to fervour of the orange-tinted sky and hadn’t thought back to Kagami’s eyes like he had been doing for weeks.

Kagami had been stored in the attic of Adrien’s mind, dusted and intentionally forgotten for some nice 4 months. But now she’s being unceremoniously summoned from the attic, in the midst of his dance floor and onto the pits of his mind’s living room. He holds a breath, a little more than worried that if he thinks about her any longer, she might also physically manifest in his actual living room which he honestly doesn’t think is a very good idea at the moment because he might involuntarily throw up on her.

Adrien thinks he can hear Alya’s voice faintly calling his name which is a miracle amongst the thunder of Ariana Grande over the speakers and fifty billion voices all at once. Without much thought to it, his lips linger back to his drink. The liquid burns down his throat like its matching the heat of the room. Ah yes, a billion degrees and perhaps more. He’d like to not think about Kagami at the moment, or any moments really. But once she’s out Adrien’s psychological attic, he finds it hard to stuff her back somewhere else. So he ignores Alya’s siren calls, twists his body the opposite direction and allows his feet to lead him to the better comforts of his bedroom. He stumbles on his way and knows he looks a bit like an idiot but he thinks his destination will make it worth it. Yes, well, it has to.

-

This room was too big. Much, much too big. Marinette doesn’t like being all too judgemental of anything. She likes to think that’s a result of her and Nino’s friendship and how Nino's face doesn’t really alter to the news of Marinette not sleeping for 48 hours doing designs. Instead, he’ll do something like quietly pull a blanket to her soulless body sprawled on her couch and confiscate the coffee away for three days. She likes to return the favour of understanding, not just to Nino but everyone else. But this room, she thinks, is far beyond the reach of her understanding. Marinette stares at the glass chandelier perched along with the high ceiling and doesn’t think she’d like to calculate if it alone could pay her entire school tuition.

She’d wandered aimlessly throughout the endless hallways, the voices of the crowd echoing behind her now mere whispers in the face of her indifference. She blames the alcohol but then again, she always does and really that wasn’t fair to the paintings which were the real cause of her spiralling away. If Marinette were sober, she thinks she might not enter strangers’ bedroom and judge them for their ridiculous size. But she wasn’t and now she freely saunters around like this room and her are more than familiar with each other. The king-sized bed, she notes, looks like something straight from a home decor magazine. Office space is set up opposite to the bed and it must undeniably have been occupying someone’s stress because papers cover the whole of the area without arrangement. Marinette can hear the faint boom of Top 40 music from outside and she thinks the sound resonates with the thunder of ocean tides crashing and falling much like the rise and fall of her own breath when she spots the easel perched near the bedroom balcony. Curious, Marinette strides like her body is actually co-operating with her. Placing her bottle on a table nearby, she inspects like she’s meant to be doing it.

The canvas is blank but the supplies were neatly arranged along the table. The space feels frozen in time, like someone had paused just as they were to begin and never quite gotten to resume. Clumsily left on the paint tray are different shades of oil paints, untouched and lonely. Cleaned brushes are nearby like they’re new and upon closer inspection, Marinette realises they are. Marinette inhales, breaths in the familiar scent of turpentine she’d recognised from years of sitting in a Studio Arts classroom next to Nathaniel. She’s no painter, not like she was before, but she’s more than proficient in traditional painting because of the required classes. Marinette sits on the stool and feels invited in it despite the clear lack of welcome of the entire room.

And because of the sudden invitation, in some swift movement she doesn’t at all recall, she picks up a brush, ruthlessly dabs it into the bright flush of a red and smears it across it the innocent canvas without regal.

“Fuck.” she says out loud as soon as the paint meets the canvas. Oh shit.

Oh shit, shit, shit. The mournful scarlet streak is right in front of her, bright as day in evidence and though its a colour, Marinette can’t help but think it’s screaming. The panic bubbles like champagne in her stomach but suddenly, just as champagne does, it settles into a fuzzy ease. Marinette laughs loud to herself. Fuck it.

Marinette ditches her reflex to set the brush down and instead dabs a little of the red back into the canvas, marks the colour again in another direction like it has a purpose. The more the hair of the brush streaks the colour along, the more the colour sings to Marinette’s face instead of its shrill screech. Over time, the colours bloom until Marinette hears the canvas perform a complete melody enough that it rivals the roar of waves outside.

- 

The thud is enough to knock Marinette out of her paint splatter of a state, she turns her head to the direction of the door and hears a muffle or two of a deep voice. The panic settles back into her body and unfortunately, she realises, it’s panic alone and there’s no champagne mixed in. Several thuds ensue by the time Marinette has scrambled to her feet; brush, paint and melody are long forgotten as she drops it to the table.

An escape route, yes, she needs an escape route. Yes, now. What about her drink? Oh God, her booze. Marinette furrows an eyebrow, seizes her bottle from the table and mindlessly gulps down the rest of the bottle’s content. Yes! Beer! Alcohol! Wait? No! She doesn’t have time for this shit! Marinette looks again to the enormous chandelier, sincerely wishing the billion carat diamond form of it all would just fall on her head, knocking her out. Instead, she scans the ground, grimaces as she ducks down low undignified and crawls to the bottom of the Instyle-looking king-sized bed. She’s thinking if the chandelier does actually plan on killing her, the bed might just be her salvation.

The door opens wide and the volume from outside adjusts to something loud and obnoxious. Marinette spots the Nike shoes thudding its way across the room and simultaneously calculates the price of the medical bill she’ll have to face if her heart doesn’t stop drumming violently against her chest. The figure paces around the room like it’s just as curious as she once was. A moment passes before the sound of the creak from the bottom of the bed rings in Marinette’s ears as the person lands on top. Her throat threatens to squeak out a sound in surprise before she suppresses it.

Marinette thinks if she wasn’t the one in her position, she might find all of this awfully funny. But because she’s the one in her position, Marinette eyes the opened door. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, she could just crawl, go into some kind of lizard mode that her 3-year-old self had prepared her for anyway. The fact that she’s drunk is making the plan sound a lot like a Nino Plan and the fact that it sounds like a Nino Plan has Marinette itching to execute it as not badly as possible. She waits for a prolonged five minutes before she dares to move a muscle. Four minutes later, she hears the faint sound of snoring and is fucking grateful for it.

She executes the plan, wills herself to crawl her way through the spotless carpet in silence. Arms extending out as she slithers her way, the noise outside gets louder with every inch closer to the door. By the time she reaches it, her body moves at the pace of a ghost as she heaves herself up in excruciating slow motion. Marinette doesn’t take a chance, doesn’t turn her head in the case she might make some unintended noise. Instead, she takes a slow breath in, treads lightly back outside and hears the echo of the waves from the narrow hallways.

- 

Nino reprimands her in the Uber. He also kind of does it in the dancefloor when he’d found her and nearly knocked several bottles over as he trudged his way over her drunken ass screaming the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He’d said something like what the fuck Marinette and she’d wailed out the second verse of Selena Gomez’ song in response. It’s a bad Selena Gomez themed haze from then on and Marinette does not remember anything beyond the audible thump of her own body in the back of the Uber whilst she makes out Nino apologising profusely to the driver. She bawls a little at this.

“No!” she hiccups, once or twice, “Wheeeere are we goiiiing?”

Nino turns his head from the passenger seat and Marinette thinks he’s going to say something disapproving again but he just chuckles. “We’re going home.”

Marinette thinks she does not like to be laughed at. “Nooooooo.”

God! She hadn’t even been kissed! Hadn’t even made out with anyone! Marinette places a light finger to her lips and mourns the lack of a kiss to her lips. That was so illegal! “I am very kissable!”

Nino just laughs again, “Find anyone to be very kissable with?”

Marinette narrows her eyebrows. Huh. Did she? She doesn’t recall a single kissable lip on her. A goddamned shame. God, what had she been doing? She was very kissable, damnit! What the hell was she doing not being kissed?

Marinette’s mind wanders to important things like puff pastries and croissants. She was over this night, she hadn’t been kissed and if she had been, it must've have been so bland her mind just threw the damn memory away. So Marinette hums a tune in blissful peace, wonders what she might do tomorrow about her maroon vs. re-

“Stop the car, I’m going to throw up.” Marinette chokes out. From the rearview mirror, the Uber driver just sort of sighs like he might throw up too.

The flash of red lingers its way back into Marinette’s mind at the speed of lightning or thunder or motorcycles or something dangerous and clearly over the speed limit. A Lamborghini probably. The blank canvas and how not very blank it was in its state in Adrien Agreste’s house. In the midst of her alcohol scented mist, the image of the painting taunts her. The hour of painting had seemed so far away like it was months ago and oh God, Marinette was going to go to prison for trespassing or something. She’ll go to prison and wear a bad shade of orange like it’s some kind of sick punishment for the array of colours she’d slashed mercilessly across the canvas.

“Oh my god.” she whispers to herself. “Shit.”

The car reluctantly stops near the side of the road. Marinette yanks open the car door, ducks her head down low and does, indeed, throw up.

[purplesurveys]

1256

surveys by taco-tuesdays

What steps would you take in order to track down a thief? Not too far, honestly. I accept things pretty easily so if I’ve processed that I’ve been robbed, I am most likely to just let it go. I’ll feel like shit, of course, but I would just let it go and scold myself for failing to be attentive.

What is something that one of your family member collects? My mom used to collect printed table napkins from different restaurants, but obivously she hasn’t been able to continue that for the past year and a half. My dad and brother used to collect magazines but both stopped a few years ago.

What would you do if you were able to have lunch with the queen? The journalist in me will probably just ask her questions about her everyday life, how she spends it, what she’s into and what she’s not into these days.

If you got to create a new flavor of ice cream, what would it be? This is a little hard considering there are a lot of small businesses out there already getting creative and quirky with ice cream flavors so it’s just hard to tell if a certain flavor has already been invented or not. One thing I haven’t seen, though, is curry. I’d buy a pint of that in an instant.

What are some questions that you would ask your favorite celebrity? His latest vlog finds. He once shared a video of this smaller content creator, so I’m guessing that’s what he likes doing in his spare time and I’m sure he would have a bunch of other just as interesting recommendations.

If you were able to set up a stand, what would you sell? Street food.

Would you like to go deep sea diving? Why or why not? Yeah. I’m always willing to try daring, not-the-safest-thing-in-the-world activities haha.

What would life be like if you lived on a cloud? The realist in me just wants to say I’d plummet straight to the ground.

What would you find at the top of a magic beanstalk? Idk, my creativity can’t be bothered to be challenged.

What is one food you would not want to have rain down from the sky? Durian. It would hurt and stink like shit.

Which animal's characteristics are similar to your own personality? I don’t really assign sets of personalities to animals.

If you were in a department store, which aisle would you check out first? I personally still go for the toys/video games section first HAHAHA

What are some of your hobbies? They include going to museums, exploring new food and restaurants, traveling to different cities and countries, and reading about history.

You've opened a store that only sells purple items - what do you sell? BTS merch hahahahah duhhhh

What is something important that you've lost, and did you ever find it? I lost a rosary that came straight from the Vatican. No, I never found it again. I feel bad about it not because it’s a religious object, but because it came from my grandma.

Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel? I mean, I had to change schools when I was moving up from high school to college, but I’ve never changed schools within the same chapter of my studies, like in the middle of elementary or high school. But to answer the question, it had been a very liberating and empowering experience. I hated the rules in my Catholic school and there were so many elements from that place that made me hide so much about myself. The fact that I could wear shorts and curse and attend rallies and cut class and make my own class schedules in college felt incredibly freeing and satisfying.

What would've happened if Cinderella never went to the ball? See magic beanstalk question.

If you had one day to do anything at all, what would you choose? I would drive to Tagaytay and find a cozy restaurant and eaaaaatttt awaaaayyyy.

What are a few of your favorite songs? I really really like Singularity by V, Over the Hills by Hayley Williams, and So Far Away by Agust D and Suran.

Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework? All the time. I never wrote down homework.

--

If you were a witch, what kind of a spell would you cast? On who? I don’t care about casting spells on people. I just want my cravings to show up in the snap of a finger hahaha. Can that be part of a witch’s scope of work? Kjdgfhsdfskjfhs

Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why? I wouldn’t know. I experience neither over here.

What is your favorite sport to play? What about watch? Table tennis. Favorite to watch would be either tennis or pro wrestling.

Have you ever gone on a cruise before? To where? Yeah. It was an East Asian cruise so I traveled to Shanghai, Jeju, and Fukuoka.

What would you do if you were invisible for a day? Probably go to the bigger houses in the village and see how fancy they get.

Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoon, floods. A lot of places are incredibly prone to flooding, so as long as it’s been raining super hard the chances for a class suspension will get high.

What types of transportation do you think we will see in the future? I dunno. It seems like we’re at that point where everything is in the process of being invented or perfected already. 

What were some of your toys you always played with when you were little? I liked kitchen sets and anything with lots of buttons, so like toy telephones or cash registers.

If you were a movie star, what would a day in your life be like? I have no clue apart from the fact that I’m just glad I would assumedly have more than enough money to buy whatever I’m craving whenever I want hahaha.

If you invented a time machine, what year would you like to go to, and why? Realistically I wouldn’t change a thing; but if I had to answer this question I’d go back to 2016 and never ask out Gab a second time, so that the next four years wouldn’t end up being such a waste of my time.

What is your favorite holiday and why? I don’t have one. I’m not a big holiday ~celebrator.

What is something that you like to do while on vacation? Try food I’ve never tried before. The more unconventional or obscure, the better.

If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Eh, don’t really have anyone in mind.

What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city? There’s the waterfalls in the upper part of the city – I’m just not sure if it’s still a popular spot but it certainly was when I was a kid. There’s also an art museum that I’m certain is a lot more frequented now.

What's one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult? Curry.

How would having no electricity affect your daily routine? I wouldn’t be able to attend work, at least not for the whole day. It would also feel a lot warmer without the electric fan, which would in turn make me cranky.

If you had one wish, what would it be? A renovated room with a dedicated corner for all my merch.

Say someone gives you a magic sweater. What happens when you wear it? Idk.

If you built a new city, how would you convince people to move there? I wouldn’t.

What is one of your favorite movies? Why is it one of your favorites? Two for the Road. It has Audrey Hepburn, it’s a realistic rom-com, and the chemistry between the two leads is superb.

--

If you were given a certain amount of time to live, would you want to know? Yeah for sure, I would want to know in a heartbeat.

What would you do if you were able to stop time? I don’t know what I would do, but that would be a nice...opportunity, I guess? to experiment with or try out certain decisions and see how well or unwell they would work out to be. So that when time resumes, I’d know better on how to best handle a situation.

Do you think that long distance relationships would be for you? I wouldn’t actively go for it, but I’m not shutting down the possibility either.

Is there a popular social media platform that you don't have an account for? I have one for all the main ones, I think. Even Instagram, I made an account not too long ago to finally join the platform.

How old were you when you found out about Santa, the Easter Bunny, etc? I never knew the Easter Bunny was a thing until I started taking these surveys at like 14. I never really believed in Santa either, and the only figure I was super disappointed to learn that it didn’t exist was the tooth fairy.

Who is your favorite Disney Princess? Rapunzel.

Which freaks you out more - clowns or porcelain dolls? Porcelain dolls. They look more innocent, which somehow makes them creepier.

What was the last mistake that you learned from? Hm, just a minor work thing that would be too complicated to explain here.

Do you prefer "regular pencils" or mechanical ones? Why? Regular. I always break off the tips of mechanical pencils.

What is one little-known music artist you'd recommend? Andi made me listen to The Drums recently and I’ve been loving their sound so far; they would be perfect on a road trip. I’ve only listened to one album, though.

What is your favorite Pixar film? Toy Story!

Who was the last person to send you any sort of message on social media? Angela sent me a video meme.

Where were you on September 11th, 2001? I don’t know...probably already being put to bed. Either way I wasn’t fully conscious yet as I had only been 3 and living on the other side of the planet.

Name your favorite green vegetable. Broccoli, spinach, bell peppers, or asparagus. IDK I love veggies hahahaha

Could you handle a friends with benefits type of situation? Not for me. I’m not even into sex. 

Do you prefer using a brush or a comb on your hair? Comb. 

What's your favorite flavor of potato chips? SALTED EGG. I’m obsessed; I had like five bags this week alone.

Would you rather build a snowman or a snow fort? Why? I dunno; I’ve never tried making either.

At what age do you believe children should begin having screen time? I’m not too sure at this point, but I do know I don’t plan on being too strict with my kids. I’d let them watch stuff on an iPad from like age 3 or 4, but one thing I would change from how I was raised is putting a limit on their screen time, maybe half an hour to an hour a day.

If you had to give a speech, what would it be on? I’d be down for any topic as long as I was given ample time to research, honestly. I like public speaking.

[luckcycler]

hi! i know you have a info page (or whatever it's called) for your characters butt doesnt work on mobile? anyways i wanted ask if you could tell me what ultimate talents they have?

Huh…

Not sure how invested you are with how you phrased your question but I just copy-pasted all the info on this ask.

I’ll put it under read more because otherwise, it will be super long

Basic info:

Heartbreak is a story of 16 former students of Hope’s Peak Academy who have found themselves locked in the bizarre setting of a love hotel. And thus, a new exciting killing game takes place once again!

As the concepts of guilt and justification clash together inside the sickeningly pink walls of the hotel, one starts to wonder who exactly is the morally righteous one?

And to shake things up… a new rule has been added to the monopad.

The cast:

Aino Inoue

Former Ultimate Mermaid

Age: 20

Class:75-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Long Walks on the Beach, Astrology

Dislikes: Sand

It’s time for opinions! Meaning opinions from this woman! This is Aino Inoue, the ultimate mermaid! Or more precisely a professional underwater mermaid actress. It appears childhood career dreams do come true! She became a very known underwater actress for her infectious charm and her ability to stay underwater for 9 minutes without breathing.

Her attitude towards others is very straightforward but that doesn’t mean she is unfriendly, actually quite the opposite and especially if she is under the liquid courage. What’s personal space? She certainly doesn’t know.

Aino is a very nosy person and loves to give relationship advice to other people, even when these other people really don’t want it. It doesn’t help that quite a lot of these advices come from her obsession with astrology and blood type personality theory.

She can also be seen more often than not with a cocktail in hand to a point her constant state of tipsiness worries some of the others. In Aino’s opinion, it just makes her twice as fun!

Daisuke Okamoto

Former Ultimate Robot Combat Champion

Birthday: May 25th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Logic Puzzles, Memes

Dislikes: Raisins in Bread, Academic writing

Here comes the local memester! Daisuke Okamoto is the current robot combat champion. But despite his promising career path in the art of mauling battle robots and much to everyone’s bafflement. After his time in Hope’s Peak, he went to study engineering at his local university. He refuses to tell why he had such a change of heart even when he still regularly competes.

Daisuke is a second-generation immigrant with his mother being American and father being Japanese. Because of this, his sense of humor is influenced a lot by western internet culture. He tends to joke around a lot giving him a carefree attitude. He loves to entertain, although in serious situations his joking nature can come off as insensitive.

But under all the jokes and terribly outdated meme’s, he is very intelligent and a hard realist who wants to know every detail of the rules and isn’t afraid to ask them from Monokuma.

Gina Higanbana

Former Ultimate Biochemist

Birthday: October 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Poetry, Family

Dislikes: Frankenstein (Story), Sour Plums

Speaking of eccentric mad scientists! Gina Higanbana, the ultimate biochemist is the sort of person who definitely befriended every monster under her bed when she was young. Gina is a boisterous workaholic which has paid off since she is known most for her study of parabiosis. Unfortunately, not all of her fame is from positive feedback, as some of her testing methods have been found very unorthodox…

Gina presents herself as larger than life, after all, she is a woman of science! Though she delves with modern problems, her way of talking is very old fashioned, and even poetic, making her sound like she would fit right into a 19th-century romance novel.  

While being a semi loud presence to the group, Gina tends to withdraw to her own space and has trouble talking about subjects outside of her interests. But when it comes to teaching neighbor kids how to turn a volcano eruption experiment into a baking soda canon, she is the right person to tag along.

Hotaka Muramaru

Former Ultimate Florist

Birthday: January 27th

Age: 22

Class: 73-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Frogs, Bellflowers

Dislikes: Kiwa Fukuda

Hotaka Muramaru, the former ultimate florist… Well, a former florist, really. He isn’t doing too hot in his life at this moment. These days he mainly does gardening work around his area. It is unfortunate as he was known for his striking floral arrangements and attention to small details before his family’s flower shop business went down.

Hotaka as a person is very forgiving by nature. He doesn’t like causing conflicts and it is very hard to get him angry. Despite these positive traits, he seems to be nice for the sake of being nice which makes it hard to get close to him in a way that matters outside of everyday small talk. It seems preserving what little image he has left is more important to him. This has also made him quite the perfectionist.

Kana Nakano

Former Ultimate Lifeguard

Birthday: May 2nd

Age: 25

Class: 70-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Children, Geocaching 

Dislikes: Spontaneous Plans

Kana Nakano, the ultimate lifeguard is very passionate about her job. She is the mom friend of the group you know you can always rely on in any hardships, niche killing games included.  She has become a very popular lifeguard at her local kids’ poolside as she has a knack for talking to children. Though because of this her way of talking can sound very condescending when speaking to other adults. She tends to simplify her words and soften the meaning much to some of the group’s irritation.

As a person, she can also be very stubborn until she meets her goal. If nothing else, she makes a great leader figure with a lot of survival abilities and experience in tough situations.

Katsurou Furusawa

Former Ultimate Hunter

Birthday: September 5th

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Sewing, Peace and Quiet

Dislikes: Wet Socks, Attention

This timid yet patient boy who looks like he just crawled out of a swamp is Katsurou Furusawa. Though he doesn’t like talking about his talent that much, he is known as the ultimate hunter. He got his title for his exceptional trap making skills and the ability to stay unmoving for hours to no end, blending to his environments seamlessly, and waiting for a pray to trigger his traps.

Personality-wise, Katsurou is bashful and likes to talk to himself rather than others. He has a tendency to be a people pleaser, disregarding his own beliefs and feelings on topics just to appease both sides of the argument. He was never a problem child, as he has always done what his parents told him to. Even accepting the invitation to Hope’s Peak was not his idea.

Katsurou is also a huge daydreamer. He seems to be more comfortable with the world inside his head than the real world, and it shows.

Kiwa Fukuda

Former Ultimate Scapegoat

Birthday: December 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-B

Blood type: AB

Likes: Citrus Fruits, Tacky Decorations

Dislikes: Paper Cuts

Though she looks quite sporty, her talent is far from a healthy career. This awkward and accident-prone woman is Kiwa Fukuda, our protagonist. Unfortunately to some, she is known as the ultimate scapegoat, though this information is confidential especially in court. Her line of work is basically taking the fall for a singular person’s or even a whole company’s mistakes. If that’s not deemed realistic, she will direct the fault towards a more suitable candidate. The amount of guilt Kiwa’s work as a scapegoat leaves her with has made her desensitized and apathetic towards others.

Personality-wise, Kiwa is laidback and can come off as an airhead thanks to her apathetic demeanor towards their current situation. She tends to joke about terrible subjects that make people around her a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

Kiwa is also clumsy and tends to get involved in accidents without trying to. Be it an injury, a misunderstanding or a terrible accident, it’s easy to assume she always has something to do with it whether it was her fault or not. Kiwa now wears a bicycle helmet all the time to make sure she won’t get a third fracture on her skull.

Kohaku Iwatomi

Former Ultimate Gemologist

Birthday: June 4th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Shiny Things, DIY

Dislikes: Loneliness

This is Kohaku Iwatomi and he is happily ready to talk your ears off! Kohaku is known as the ultimate gemologist, mainly because he changes his specialty in gemology quite often, always wanting to try out something new. He seems to excel in all the areas he has tried out so far through pure dedication and excitement towards his profession. Though, for some reason, he has been working as a gem appraiser in his local pawnshop for longer than his peers thought he would withstand to.

Kohaku is a very cheery young man who loves to mingle no matter the topic. If you know him, you probably know his whole life story. He doesn’t like silence, nor does he bode well if left alone for too long. He isn’t narcissistic though as he is very empathetic and wears his emotions on his sleeve, he just really likes company and he has so much information to share with everyone!

Kohaku also has a liking towards thrift shop clothes and DIY projects hence his striking and pretty mismatched appearance.

Masami Kiyokane

Former Ultimate Croupier

Birthday: July 17th

Age: 22

Class: 73-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Board Games, Philosophy of Ethics

Dislikes: Alcohol

As if there were not enough party poopers in this group… This is Masami Kiyokane and he is known as the ultimate croupier. He got his title through diligent croupier work at organized events and after coming of age, at established casinos. Masami also has gotten quite good at seeing who is cheating and he knows most card games by heart. He seems fascinated by game rules in general.

Masami’s personality is pretty uptight and passive-aggressive. His way of talking tends to be a colorful use of personification, especially when he is going on a tangent and complaining about something. Though he talks big, very rarely is his bite worse than his bark as he mutters under his breath before admitting he is in the wrong.

Masami has a very strong moral system he believes in. His rather judgmental attitude is unusual for someone who has a hobby of learning about ethical philosophy though and often he gets called a hypocrite for playing favorites. He is not very happy about that.

Mei Kaneko

Ultimate Phonologist

Birthday: March 21st

Age: 18

Class: 77-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Corvidae, Accents

Dislikes: Wasting Time

This young girl is Mei Kaneko. She is the youngest of the group as she is the only one still studying in Hope’s Peak. She should be set to graduate soon and she is more than excited to continue with her dreams towards a real working life as the ultimate Phonologist!

Personality-wise, Mei is very energetic and will give her all to any task at hand. She is also very loud and a bit of a daredevil. If you tell her to not push the red button, she will definitely push the red button.

Growing up, Mei’s neighborhood had always been surrounded by corvids. As she slowly got more familiar with them, she developed a fascination towards the crows that kept playing in her backyard. Mei had been studying dialects and languages since she was little thanks to her bilingual home and decided, quite abruptly, that her life work from then on would have to deal with establishing communication with corvids.

Nori Ikari

Former Ultimate Sailor

Birthday: December 8th

Age: 20 (?)

Class: 75-A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Folk Tales, Making Rope Knots

Dislikes: His Knee Brace

This theatrically boisterous man is Nori Ikari, the ultimate sailor. Believe it or not, he is as young as 20 years old, which has led some of the group to believe he is a vampire in disguise. Nori comes from a vast lineage of sailors of different ranks but all just as proud seafarers! Nori got his title as the ultimate sailor after recklessly making a week-long fishing trip alone in a trawler boat made for a crew of 10.

Nori tends to tell long tales of his ancestors which sound just bizarre enough that no one is quite sure if Nori is speaking the truth or not. To be honest, everything he says just sounds downright like a big fish story all the way down to his accent. Is this man real? No one has a good answer to that.

Personality-wise Nori can be pretty intense. He has a habit of making a bigger deal out of very normal things. Nori values honor and traditions and tends to get quite defensive if his integrity is challenged. And if needed, he might challenge you to a sword fight at a parking lot if he deems you need a fair ass kicking.

Okemia Momose

Former Ultimate Opera Singer

Birthday: March 10th

Age: 24

Class: 71-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Vintage Aesthetic, Home

Dislikes: Hope’s Peak, Luck

This nervous woman is Okemia Momose. It’s been a while since people have heard her sing, but she is still regarded as the ultimate opera singer. She got her title for her incredible range and her ability to hold a note for almost half a minute.

Nowadays though, her fame is shadowed by a traumatic event she went through in one of her performances. She was one of the performers at her local opera house which was run by a Yakuza family. However, there was a very strained turf war going on around the area that one day resulted in a shoot out at the opera house. Unfortunately to Okemia, she got caught in the crossfire and a bullet hit her temple. Though she survived, she got inflicted irredeemable damage to her brain which developed into a stutter.

Despite her towering over everyone with her height of a 6’5 feet, she is not very confident in herself. Okemia is a very high-strung person who tends to think the worst possible thing will definitely happen to her. Though she is nervous she has a lot of resentful opinions that are made from wise words

Shion Arai

Former Ultimate Figure Skater

Birthday: July 23rd

Age: 21

Class:  74-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Rhinestones, Straightforwardness

Dislikes: Cleaning, Bootlickers, Mornings

This person here is Shion Arai the ultimate figure skater! Under all the glitter, rhinestones, and an eccentric personality lies a somewhat kind-hearted individual who is willing to cooperate… as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them.

Shion got their title thanks to their impeccable ability to adapt and improve fast. They have won multiple competitions in their teen years despite starting the sport at age 12, which is considered quite late. After graduating Hope’s peak, Shion’s placement in the podiums has started to steadily drop. If asked about the slow decline of their career, Shion just shrugs nonchalantly, leaving it at that.

Shion identifies as nonbinary and they are very prideful towards their identity and their achievements. Despite this, they are also incredibly lazy and rarely bothers to do something they don’t want to. Their goal is to go where the bar is the lowest and if that’s not possible, they WILL complain.

Suzu Nagahashi

Former Ultimate Ballerina

Birthday: November 1st

Age: 21

Class: 74-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Rainy Days, Leather Jackets

Dislikes: Dancing

This cold and assertive young lady is Suzu Nagahashi, the ultimate ballerina and she is not here to get herself killed over some dumb motive. Suzu has been known for her skills all her life. Rumor has it her mother, a former ballerina, started teaching Suzu how to dance the moment she was able to take her first step. Absolutely no one was surprised when she got her invitation to Hope’s Peak, though she rarely showed up to school thanks to her harsh performance schedule.

Suzu is very stoic and she picks her words carefully. Though her tone of voice is very serious, her pink frilly dress makes her attempts to be taken seriously harder for her. Luckily Suzu is stubborn and will try her utmost best to keep the situation she has been thrown in solely under her control.

Tetsu Asukaze

Honorary Ultimate Taxi Driver

Birthday: October 1st

Age: 26

Class: N/A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Radio, Coffee, Extraterrestrials

Dislikes: N/A

This funky young man is Tetsu Asukaze and he is known as the ultimate taxi driver. Who would’ve thought that was a talent, huh? Tetsu’s situation as an ultimate is a bit different from others because he only discovered his talent after getting old enough to drive which meant his high school days were already over. Despite this, Hope’s Peak decided to give him an honorary title of an ultimate taxi driver. Whatever that means…

Even though Hope’s Peak had given a public acknowledgment of Tetsu’s talent, he doesn’t think much of it nor does he feel he really belongs with the other ultimates.

Personality-wise, Tetsu is your serene local cryptid whose life has no order and looking at his sleeping schedule it’ll stay like that. Despite his harmless chaos, he is a very sweet lad with a passion for the unknown and obscure theories.

Tsubaki Ito

Former Ultimate Mortician

Birthday: May 8th

Age: 24

Class: 71-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Medical History, Bad and Gory Horror Movies

Dislikes: Spirals

This unnerving and small woman is Tsubaki Ito, the ultimate mortician. She was born as a miracle child to an old couple that ran a mortician family business. In fact, everyone in her extended family is at least a generation older than her. As the years went by, her family slowly passing away from natural causes had become a regular occurrence.

Tsubaki is specialized in body restoration and desairology, as she tends to work with victims of causalities. She got her title by her ability to make even the worst of murder victims to look like they are merely sleeping in their caskets.

As the concept of death is an old friend in her family, Tsubaki has become desensitized towards the subject and can come off as insensitive towards the killing game. But what can you do when your daily routine occasionally includes pulling out a chainsaw from someone’s chest cavity due to a gruesome accident?  Despite this, Tsubaki is very sweet and will address everyone with an endearing tone.

[l-crimson-l]

small rant time (fgo)

so i’ve had this on my chest for a while and i was even debating whether to not to even post it but i think i’ll just throw it out into the wind and leave it untagged (mostly). i’ve loved fate for a very long time and dedicated a good chance of time learning its intricacies and lore. characters always had more layers to dig through and learn about which is something i always loved reading into and seeing other peoples post about. starting up fgo some years ago was just the thing to itch that extra scratch of wanting more from the franchise and a great way to get myself lost in the stories. Mash was an instant favorite and the gameplay was enough to keep me hooked (i was coming from card game gacha’s so it was a total upgrade that these had sprites!). however along the way of diving headfirst into fate tumblr and playing through it became pretty apparent that a lot of my enjoyment of the series came from outside the game itself which is something that i just don't like happening especially when i know there's the appropriate talent behind the game for it to be present while playing. it started to feel less and less like the game as wonderful on its own merits as i had built it up in my mind which was rather disappointing. Not helping to this was seeing the designs from the later lost belts and just being totally not hyped about it. Extra nails in the coffin at this point too was i had started playing AL and the wild difference in how each dev team treated their EN players and how each team approached the gacha.  at this point a few more things about the game itself started sticking out more and more as a sore thumb. so let me just complain for a bit: -the turned base system got real old. there's only so many times i can kill the same skeleton or book without starting to feel burnout.  -consequence from this was that the game started feeling less about which servants i personally really wanted to use and became more about “how can i 3 turn this farm node” -which lead to an artificial narrowing of which servants i saw in my support screen -top this off with how long it takes to actually raise a servant to being able to use in the mid level nodes and you're asking for more and more time out of me -plus i started to work full-time so investing increasingly large amounts of time between farming to raise servant and farming events (bc mats also have poor drop rates) just became less and less feasible.  -sq being an absolute pain to save up and farm didn't help especially with 5*’s being such a low rate anyway

again at this point i had started playing AL and the difference in the approach to the gacha left a very sour taste in my mouth towards fgo. as if it was asking for not just all of my time but actively encouraging me to spend on sq to offset the 1% rate up. this paired with finishing up the final singularity (which was stellar btw, im a huge sucker for the “everyone shows up at the end to save the day” shtick) and knowing full well i didn't really care for anything coming out in the next 2 years save for maybe 2 or 3 servants really just put the second to last nail in the coffin. i say second to last bc i want to keep myself open to the possibility that im just experiencing burn out and maybe one day i’ll make it back that said, seeing gacha done so much better in the likes of Azur Lane and how Yostar treats its EN community, as well as seeing a similarly dense story being woven in the likes of Arknights, doesn't leave me with a lot of faith that i will return to fgo. i’ll hold onto it and the memories i’ve had, because i’ve quite a number of fond memories with it, but i kind of hope they just do something more...i’m not entirely sure of what exactly more but i kind of feel like its soul changed about halfway through.  anyway here's to one day falling back in love with fgo bc i absolutely adore the MHX meme

[splittingxpaths]

.:nightmare meme:.

Every brain process was dedicated to the one, singular word, said louder and LOUDER with every beat of their heart as their nightmare-self would lean towards the being that should make them want to run away, or fight, or literally anything else. Was their body moving on its own? Were they doing it on their own accord? 

No.

The smooth skin of coiled muscles wound itself around one of the seer’s legs as the distance closed even closer, crimson eyes filling their vision just before they leaned the rest of the way. Those lips often curled in cruel smirks were soft and cool to their own.

No.

Pulling away slowly even when their mind screamed to go FASTER, they could feel their lips curl into a smile. Why were they SMILING.

NO.

But then they’d speak, voice soft and warm, while they’re forced to look into those red hues. They couldn’t understand why they weren’t flinching. ❝I love you,❞ they heard themself say to the emperor. The tail would only tighten as though he were pleased with this, his lips curved in a soft smirk of his.

NO!

This was entirely WRONG, and it was only after that whole scene would they finally wake up -- their skin felt clammy, and even though their brain was catching onto the fact that it was only a nightmare, they were unconsciously wiping at their lips. They felt contaminated enough that they wondered just how long of a hot shower would it take before they felt clean again.

❝Can I just not sleep again -- ever..?❞

[executionersghost]

6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses. (all of them, please)

Meme for Muns || Accepting

Alfred

1. I very much enjoy getting to write him as a gentleman character. Cause, for me, it just makes the horror of his fanaticism stand out that much more starkly. Cause it’s not like he “snaps” no. No there’s terror in realizing he was just Like That this whole time and you just might not have asked the right questions.

2. Something that’s unique to my interpretation of Alf, I suppose, is his underlying desperation to stay true to “his cause” in that, he chose this and now he’s dedicated to seeing it out cause he has nothing else to really cling to. He is his resolve, and that yawning existential pit behind him, and precious little else. So just like everyone else in Yharnam he’s just trying to find reason enough to not fall apart at the seams.

Cause I think the more popular interpretation was that he knew Logarius and was raised by the executioners and whatnot. And eh…”Character is a fanatic cause they were raised in a cult” while fitting just seemed really flat for me. Plus his dialogue always sounded more like someone reciting history as opposed to actually having lived it.

3. I guess on a more meta note, Alfred was what got me into the bloodborne fandom. I think I’ve already told this story on here, and you definitely know it, so in short-

My love for Alfred is, quite literally, because of the friends I made along the way lol. Des, Mal, Mango, Lint, Dero, Deer, and Fractal- it was a good two years.

Claire

1. Ahh my dear Claire. Despite all she’s been through she’ll always choose kindness first. She’s not naive, and can tell when someone has malicious intent. She’s all too aware of that actually, but in situations where she’s unsure, she’ll give them the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. Yharnam is a strange place with strange people, but she’s truly intrigued by it all. Treat her with kindness in turn and she’ll be your friend and hold you secrets well.

2. I’m waiting for the day someone gets to find out just how weird she is. Like when she gets real comfortable around someone, they may get a taste for her sense of humor in that they’ll find out it’s actually pretty deadpan. Like they may just double take as they try to figure out if she really just said what she said. She’ll definitely find their confusion funny too.

3. On the opposite end to her kindness, I really love the moments where she just gets to go off on something or someone. When she gets the courage to stand up for herself, She Does. Granted, it takes quite a bit to back her into a proverbial corner, but she’s tasted blood once. She won’t hesitate to bite again.

Mecaela

1. So I make jokes about how much of a bitch she is, but she’s actually not. Well…she’s not when it matters. If you’re coming to her for help, you bet she will give everything within her power to help you as best she can. Even if she’s not fond of you, as a patient you’ll be treated no different than all the rest. Her entire reason for carrying on is to help as many people as possible before she simply cannot do so anymore. Else she would’ve joined her beloved in death a long time ago. But she won’t. Not yet. There’s still work left to be done.

2. The absolute tragedy of her. She was a scholar of the stars as far removed from beasthood as one could be. Then one singular moment of grief ripped that entire future away from her. She fell from that grace and she fell hard. And as more time passes she can show her face around the upper ward and what’s essentially her only family less and less. She’s becoming the very thing that killed her beloved. And now that she’s at the bottom looking up, she realizes there’s really no other way it all could’ve gone. She would have coped terribly in one way or another. So she’s since made peace with that moment of grief. It is what it is and all she can do is try to move forward from here.

3. Truly my love for her reaches far beyond this blog. She’s been a character of mine for over a decade and she’s gone through so much evolution from then to now. So yeah she may be an Edgy OCtm but she’s MY Edgy OCtm lol. (Even then this is just her bloodborne self. Her actual self is quite a bit different lmao. Still grumpy but much less despair).

[loveisaviolence3]

"and if you want me gone, i'll leave." belltasha (sent by lingeringscars to archive)

it takes tasha longer than it should to recognize both her mistake and the tone of voice that was once so familiar it pains her to feel as jarred by it as she does now, as if lightness is alien between them. she realizes he’s joined her in the gym a beat too late, and the ball of flame she’s been tossing about in her practice skates past him– not close enough to do any kind of damage even if it were more than a frazzled puff of exaggerated hot air, but not so far away he couldn’t see the sparks or feel their heat. 

she’s not particularly good at it. her magic isn’t anywhere near as strong as christian’s burst of flame had been back at the house, and only marginally more controlled. fun parlor tricks were one thing, but channeling that magic into something that could be used offensively was different. it required a concentration she struggled to find, especially now. her magic was as flimsy as a rubber band; she kept trying to stretch it beyond its limits, but before she got very far it would snap back into place with a painful, frustrating zeal. she’s hardly in the physical shape for it, nor the head space – but that hasn’t stopped her from throwing herself into action anyway, especially in moments like these where she finds herself practically drowning in all of the silence ( and silence means thought. and thought means remembering. and remembering means – she can’t go there. she can’t do that. )

if you want me gone, i’ll leave, bellamy teases faintly, which is nearly as effective as throwing his hands up in an feigned gesture of surrender. it has what she suspects is the desired effect– it coaxes a smile out of her as she profusely apologizes, and though weary, it’s genuine still. the humor in his voice, however trying, stirs in her memory, and from that memory, warmth. 

it’s been so long since she’s laughed with a friend. 

silence inevitably falls, and thoughts of an invasive nature inevitably follow: is bellamy the only friend she has left in the world? are they friends? they were family, he still feels like family to her, but in her experience, family is a thread that can be cut. she and christian’s have washed their hands of them. who knows what she is to bellamy now? certainly not her. 

( what will it cost him if she stays? )

she’s watched him these past few weeks whenever she could get away with it. he’s a guardian now, out in the world– and he’s shining. he’s good at it, so good. she knew he would be, but there’s still something about seeing him in his element that surprises her. even the uniform he’s in now adds to the feel, though she knows she’s not one to comment on different appearances. it’s not a bad look, really; she’s proud of him. her life is in shambles, but he’s thriving. finally getting recognition for his talent, his dedication. ( the future they were supposed to have seems so far away it’s hard to believe it once seemed in sight, but it’s not the dreams she misses, not the idea of college or the life she’d once thought they could have led. just him. unattached from anything else, save their family. she hates herself for how much– like she doesn’t have a right to miss him. not just on account of vinh, but on account of everything. there’s so much missing going on, though, that she can hardly tell one ache apart from another. it all blurs together into one singular agony that she can’t escape. ) 

she made the right choice. one right choice. 

if she hadn’t, he might have been vinh. 

if she hadn’t, he might be gone. 

tasha can’t bear the thought. 

( except when he’s standing here, she can’t think of any of that. all she has is this tangle of feelings in her chest, love that never went away and longing she wished would subside. because looking at him neither one of them feels any different at all. she feels sixteen all over again when he looks at her, and it’s terrible. wonderful, so wonderful, but terrible. like she doesn’t know what she’ll do if it lasts one more second, like it will kill her if it stops. 

that person was weak, tasha reminds herself. she nearly lost her entire family in a night because she couldn’t bring herself to see things clearly. tasha can’t be her anymore. ) 

“i think we have to leave,” she says rather suddenly after a few moments of quiet. it’s meant to sound decisive, firm; she’s been working on that, on assertiveness – it’s the only way they’ll ever survive their family, this place. she can’t be weak, she can’t be uncertain. 

but she is uncertain, and it has always been bellamy who she has trusted her uncertainty with. maybe a part of her is looking for validation now, some twitch of his expression to make her sure she’s doing the right thing. she wants to ask him if you ever stop feeling unsure, stop being anxious that you’ve made a mistake – but she can’t abide that kind of vulnerability, not when she already feels so very fragile. it would also be too reminiscent of the time they spent during their relationship seeking the other’s affirmation – you’re doing okay, you’re doing alright, they’re not going to break. tasha doesn’t know which way to go from here, but she knows she can’t go back.

and still, all she has are questions. by leaving, is she teaching christian to run? if she were to stay, would it only be to satisfy her pride? to prove they can’t chase her away?    

looking at bellamy, she sees one other reason. bellamy and octavia. the only tether. the single thread. the only thing keeping her here besides her anger.  ( anger she knows she has to let go, just like she has to let go of bellamy and octavia. christian needs her. )

“i tried to convince him to leave school.”  there’s a note of inexplicable laughter in her voice. she can’t stand it, how fragile she sounds, all of the ways she’s coming up short.  “i told him i would home school him if he wanted– like i know anything about doing that.”  there’s that rawness again, eating her alive from the inside out. she’d known it was impossible when she’d said it– even if supplying a curriculum for a growing moroi boy was possible for her to do, there’s no way she could do both that and hold down a job, which is the only hope they have of staying afloat.  she’d known, and still she’d offered, unable to stop herself.  “he said no. promised he’d be okay, that he was excited to go back. he’s so brave. i have no idea who he got that room.”

because it certainly wasn’t lucas or moira, or anyone else in their family for that matter.

( god, she wishes she could borrow some of that. )   

she tucks her hair behind her ears, looking down– a deflective fidget she hasn’t yet managed to shake.    “i can’t let him grow up in a war zone.”   and that’s what this is, court. the last few weeks have been absolute hell. whispers and glares were one thing, but those who resided here, however sophisticated, were brutal. the other night they came home to their suite broken into and completely trashed, vandalized with ‘strigoi’ written on the walls. she suspected it would’ve happened sooner were it not for the guardians they had tailing her, making sure she didn’t turn. 

she’d just barely managed to stop christian from walking in the bathroom before she’d cleaned up the threat they’d scrawled across the mirror: strigoi get staked.  

 “when he comes home from school, he has to have some place safe to come home to, he has to.”      ( she knows how important that is because bellamy was hers. her safe place. ) 

 i have to protect him from all of this. he’s just a kid. he’s just a kid. 

if she stays, how would she ever stop doing this– looking to bellamy? needing him? how will she ever stop being that person? how will she ever stop looking at him like she’s looking at him now, wide-eyed and waiting, waiting, waiting?

( tasha can make her go away. she doesn’t have to die, though. she can just go away. she can leave her with him. he’ll keep her safe. ) 

meme on old blog / not accepting.

[firerwolf]

Ask meme Tom/Lucy. I really want to say 1-45 and hope for the best, but in practice: your choice from 1, 3, 4, 7-9, 11, 13, 17, 19-24, 30, 32-34, 36-38, 40, 42, 44, 45

1.How do they fall asleep? Wakeup? Any daily rituals?

They don’t have a particular waythey fall asleep seeing as their schedules and work isn’t consistent enough forit. They do wake up every morning at 5 AM and run through their daily schedule.It insures they both know where each of them will be through the entire day.

3 Are they open about theirrelationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection?

They keep their relationship tothemselves. As they’re people of authority on Onyx it isn’t appropriate intheir eyes. They don’t lie about being together and they admit to it freelywhen asked but they just don’t take part in PDA.

4 First impression of each other? Was it loveat first sight?

When they first met they just saw eachother as recruits for the S III program. Tom didn’t expect that Lucy would makeit and Lucy didn’t think anything of Tom. They were certainly a slow burnromance.

7 What annoys them the most abouttheir partner? Would they change it if they could?

For Tom it’s Lucy’s stubbornness.He wouldn’t change that about her but it can cause problems sometimes. For Lucyit’s the fact that Tom always takes command in a situation even when he’s notbeen put in the command position and has equal authority to her. She wouldn’tchange it completely, she doesn’t mind not having to take the speaking role,but she would like if he was more careful about not dismissing that she has asmuch command as him.  

8 What do the like best abouttheir partner?

Lucy likes Tom’s determination andresourcefulness the most and Tom loves Lucy’s rebellious attitude.

9 Do they discuss big issues?Religion? Marriage? Children? Death?

They never discuss religion, it’ssimply not a thing that either of them cares about. They have talked aboutmarriage and children, particularly each time they’ve moved to a new locationor duty. Death is a discussion that they have occasionally. They aren’t long discussionsbut they’re the most important ones to Lucy.

11 Do they celebrate holidays?Anniversaries?

They do holidays if where everthey are is having a celebration. After a long discussion to decide on datesfor anniversaries they celebrate them.

13 What do they do for fun? Dothey have a favorite activity or do they like to switch things up?

Lucy likes reading and Tom likesart. Spending time in silence is quality time between them. They also like sparringas an activity together and are open to things like sports or seeing movies whenthey’re being shown. They don’t seek out activities like that but if invitedthey like taking part.

17 What would make them break up?Would it be permanent?

Nothing. Even if one of them diedthey’d still be dedicated to each other.

19 What do they fight about? Whatare their arguments like? How do they make up?

They tend to fight about what todo with particular soldier’s they’re training or which security plan to gowith. They tend to just be them butting heads but when things really get heatedLucy reverts to just sign language and at that point Tom will just look away,shutting the conversation down. They tend to just walk away from each other fora little while and that cools them both down. Once they have calmed down, theytend to just get over their anger. If one of them said something harsh they mayapologize but usually it isn’t necessary as they know the other didn’t mean it.

20 What does their home look like?Their room?

They live in the standard barrackswith all the other instructors so it’s nothing special.

21 Do they share any interests orhobbies?

They both share enjoyment ofexercise and the pride of training Spartans.

22 Does their work ever interferewith the relationship?

It can keep them away from eachother more than they like but they’ve gotten used to that hinderance.

23 How do they hug? Kiss? Tease?Flirt? Comfort?

Not really sure of what to make ofthis question. They’re fairly normal in hugging and kissing. They flirt throughsign language.

24 Any doubts about therelationship?

None about being together. Lucysometimes worries about being a burden on Tom because she is limited and hedoes take it on himself to defend her. Tom sometimes worries he’s failing insupporting Lucy because she holds back on putting her troubles on him and hefeels like he should be able to tell when she’s not telling him everything.

30 Could they manage a longdistance relationship?

Yeah. It would be hard on them butthey could handle it.

32 Do they ever get into trouble?Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?

No, they don’t do things that getthem into trouble. Though it is true Mendez is lighter on them than others sothere is less that can get them in trouble.

33 What kind of presents do theyget each other? Do they only do it on special occasions?

They do paperwork, tasks, andother duties for each other to make their days easier. They don’t need aspecial occasion but for those bigger days they set aside time to spendtogether as a gift to each other.

34 Do they have any pets?

No. They aren’t allowed to.

36 What’s their greatest strengthas a couple? Their weakness?

Their strength is that they knoweach other well enough that they can avoid wasting time because they know eachother so well. Their weakness is that they will hesitate in upsetting eachother or putting each other in danger which can cause problems.  

37 How much would they be willingto sacrifice for the other? Any lines they refuse to cross?

They wouldn’t sacrifice civilian livesfor each other, but that’s about it. Like if it means letting a ship ofhelpless civilians be killed and saving the other they wouldn’t do that.

38 What are they like in thebedroom? Any kinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do?

They’re fairly vanilla in bed. It’smore that they just don’t have many kinks than an unwillingness to try anythingnew.

40 Any special memories? Do theyhave a special place they like to go to?

They don’t have any special happymemories, it’s more a collection of the calm memories together than singularmemories. They tend to like sending time together in their quarters. It’s theonly thing they are sure they’ll always have no matter where they go so it’sthe only thing beside each other that is consistent so it feels special.