#Black nail technician

[dees-nails]

Throwback nails 💅🏿

This was one of the best sets I've ever done IMHO. Definitely a great way to kick off (yet another...) sideblog 😂

[thedevilndolce]

YA GIRL GRADUATED BEAUTY SCHOOL TODAY 💅🏾💗

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake: Vigilante by Night, Nail Artist by… Also Night?

You wouldn’t think it at first glance, but Tim Drake has the best nails in the Batfamily. Not just “good for a guy who punches people at night”—no, immaculate. We’re talking glossy top coats, intricate designs, and cuticles so well-maintained they could make a spa technician weep.

No one really knows when it started. Maybe it was stress relief, maybe it was an exercise in precision, or maybe Tim just realized his hands looked too rough after long nights on patrol and decided, why not?

—

Picture this:

Jason: staring at Tim’s nails “Is that… a mini Gotham skyline?”

Tim, blowing on his fresh polish: “Yeah. Took me two hours.”

Jason: “…I can’t tell if that’s badass or terrifying.”

—

Or this:

Damian watches Tim paint his nails, eyes narrowing. “How do you keep them so precise?”

Tim grins. “Steady hand. Want to try?”

Damian hesitates, then nods. “I suppose… for training purposes.”

An hour later, Damian’s sporting deep green nails with tiny golden swords. He’s hooked.

—

The Batcave Chronicles:

Bruce walks in, about to give a mission briefing. Stops. Blinks.

Tim is carefully applying tiny bat symbols on a matte black base.

Bruce: “…Is this really necessary?”

Tim: “Mental health care, Bruce. Ever heard of it?”

Bruce decides he has not, in fact, heard of it. Leaves.

—

Justice League Meetings:

Wonder Woman notices during a debrief. “Timothy, your nails are beautiful.”

Tim, beaming: “Thanks. This week’s theme is constellations.”

Hal Jordan, muttering: “How does he fight crime with those?”

Tim, deadpan: “Better than you without them.”

—

And don’t even get the batfam started on the glow-in-the-dark polish he wears on patrol. Steph still brings up the time Tim knocked out a thug, and the guy’s last words before unconsciousness were: “Are those… holographic?”

Tim Drake: world’s most sleep-deprived detective, but you’ll never catch him with chipped nails or uncut cuticles.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Without the useless procedures or petty vandalism, the Med Bay was actually kind of boring. Besides the occasional cold or sprained joint, nothing was really holding Doctor Jane Shaw’s interest. She did get to meet a few of the crew, and that was nice, but otherwise it was boring. She knew the mission had only been underway less than a week, but she’d been expecting a little more excitement. Like landing on an asteroid or dogfights with space pirates. Jane had been watching bad sci-fi movies since she was a little girl so her expectations were a little…unrealistic.

Jane was about to hit the mess hall when Doctor Huhuma came through the door, the 3 other simian like Indoprime in tow.

“Hey you guys, sorry, I’ll clear out of here right after I finish these papers.”

“No, Jane, stay and have lunch with us,” Huhuma said, “I already brought you a plate. It’s mostly fruit though, so I’m not sure how much you’ll enjoy it.”

“Well… alright, if you insist.” Jane had said polite greetings to the other Indoprimes when they’d come into the Med Bay previously, but she hadn’t really met them properly yet. In retrospect she hadn’t really met a lot of the crew yet, aside from that minor assault on Simms the Gally, and that wasn’t exactly putting her best foot forward.

Jane left her desk and came over to the exam table where the four aliens were enjoying their meal. Huhuma wore her lab coat as usual over the green medical uniform she always wore, which suited her in Jane’s opinion. Two of the others were in maintenance worker orange, and the fourth was in security personnel gray.

“Alright, you’ve met these guys before yeah? That’s Hayte there from Security, and these two are Marrin and Kub, they work maintenance with that other human who stole the service droid.”

“I told you, he didn’t steal it, it’s more like he… adopted it, the weirdo.” Kub laughed.

“Well is it cute?” Jane asked.

“Is what cute?”

“The droid.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“Then yeah, that tracks. Humans are suckers for anything cute,” Jane said, eyes flicking to Huhuma.

“See, I told you to be nice,” Marrin said, jostling Kub with her shoulder.

“So are you guys like siblings or what’s the deal here?” Jane asked, sitting to the Doctor’s left. She picked up a spiky red ball fruit, hoped it was edible to humans, and tried peeling it.

“Not exactly. Most Indoprime live in tribes, so we’re closer to what you humans would call cousins. Same tribe, different tree.” Huhuma reached over and pierced the fruit Jane had with her nail. “Now try.”

Once the fruit’s skin had been torn it peeled easily, like an orange. It smelled sweet.

“Thanks.” Jane took a bite. It was sweet and dark, like black cherries on steroids. “Oh my god this is fantastic, what is this?”

“It’s a makla fruit from our home planet,” Marrin explained. “Your Vending Machines get them almost perfect, but the ones back home are still better.”

“Well you’re all troopers for making due I guess,” Jane teased. The table laughed, and she relaxed a little. The 5 of them chatted throughout their breaks, Jane and Huhuma telling them about Simms the Gally and his unofficial punishment. Hayte approved, saying that security chief Ducane would probably agree with it but that he wouldn’t spill the beans on them.

Hayte told them about the chief, ‘Ducane the Destroyer’, and how the security teams were shaping up into ‘special forces’ like the humans had on E24.

“The guy is a monster, nothing can stop him. I’ve seen him in the GRID, it’s like he grows twice his size! I’ve never seen anyone run the gauntlet like him before in my life!”

“Well you know if any of you actually do get hurt in there, come see us immediately Hayte,” Huhuma said.

“Yeah, don’t bite it from just a simulation, we need you guys in case we run across pirates or something. I can’t use a blaster to save my life. Deadliest weapon I’ve ever held was a scalpel,” Jane said, popping another piece of fruit in her mouth.

“I thought all you deathworlders were trained soldiers?” Kub asked.

“Nah, not me. I got through the academy purely on brains. Can’t fight my way out of a paper bag but I can diagnose an ear infection at 20 yards.”

“Says the girl who tackled that Gally guy into next cycle,” said Huhuma, chuckling.

“Okay, fair enough. Maybe I got some fight in me somewhere,” Jane smiled at her. Then she noticed the rest of the Indoprime looking at her, Marrin smirking, the boys just with a blank stair on their faces. Jane covered her face with her drink as she took a long sip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their respective breaks ended, and everyone returned to their stations. Huhuma went to her office to finish a paper she’d been working on, leaving Jane to take stock of the equipment in med bay. She went down the checklist on her work pad, counting off items as she went.

3 emergency med kits with body stabilizers, check.

6 dozen microscopic sutures, check.

4 short wave laser scalpels… not check, there were only 2 there.

Thats odd, where’d they go? Jane thought. She’d grabbed one just the other day to get that pipe out of Simms the Gally, and she was sure she’d set it back to recharge, but now it and a second were missing from their slots in the port.

Jane hit a button on her work pad.

“Computer, has anyone checked out equipment from the med bay storage?”

[Negative]

“Crap.”

Jane knocked on the doctor’s office door. It hissed open, and Doctor Huhuma looked up from her computer. Her tail flicked behind her.

“What is it Jane?”

“I was doing the inventory out there and it looks like two of the laser scalpels got misplaced or something.”

“Are you sure you put it back from the Gally incident?”

“100% sure, and it’s not just that one, two are missing from the kits. If someone came in here and took them, those can be used as knives or weapons or…”

Jane’s imagination was overclocking at an alarming rate. Suddenly she was in the midst of a mutiny and pirates were taking over the ship, or someone used a scalpel to cut a hole in the ship and let all the oxygen rush out, or…

Jane took a deep breathe.

“Jane, calm down. I’m sure it’s just a clerical error, but what do you say we send a report to the captain and the security chief, okay?” Huhuma came out from behind her desk and put a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just… this is my first posting out of the academy, and I really wanted it to go well. I’m really glad now that you got the division head job, because I don’t think I could handle the pressure if I get done in from just inventory being off.” Jane chuckled weakly.

“Everything is going to be fine. We’ll report the issue to the captain and Chief Ducane, they’ll sort it out. But maybe we’ll change the code to the medicine cabinet too, just to be safe,” Huhuma walked on light feet to the storage room and began typing commands into the pad on the door. It tripped and beeped and glowed green, accepting the changes. “There, all done. And I’ll report that to the captain as well. Just be ready to assist the nurses with this if they need anything from in there, alright?”

She’s so nice, Jane thought. So in control of her shit. Kind of jealous actually.

“Thanks Doctor,” Jane said.

“Please, you can just call me Huhuma if we’re not in surgery,” she said laughing softly.

“Thanks, Huhuma.” Jane felt a blush coming on again, so she quickly turned and got back to her duties. The good doctor went back to her office, most likely to inform the captain of their inventory issue. All was quiet in med bay for the rest of the shift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As much as she enjoyed having a meal with the Indoprime troupe on the ship, Jane chose to have a quiet dinner by herself in the mess hall that evening. She hit the vending machine, got a nice pasta dinner with a savory red sauce, and sat down at a corner table to read a medical journal on her work pad while she ate.

She’d just opened what she’d hoped to be an interesting article about new lumbar puncture procedures for different species when some ruckus caught her attention. Someone in a yellow communication division uniform apparently hadn’t chewed their food all the way, and seemed to be choking.

“Someone call med bay!”

Fuck, Jane thought.

She was once again on the move with no real conscious thought about it. A crowd had formed around the victim, blocking Jane from her newest patient.

“Move, move, I’m a doctor, please can you GET THE HELL OUT OF MY DAMN WAY!?” She hollered, progressively louder as she elbowed and shoved her way through the throng of people. Hearing her shout, the crowd parted and gave her the space she needed. Jane got to the man, prone of the floor, and rolled him over. He was a Scrib, a bipedal humanoid, bald, pale pink skin now turning blue. Thankfully Jane was very familiar with their anatomy.

“He’s not choking, this is anaphylactic shock, probably something he ate.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“His airway is closed, he can’t breath. His anatomy is basically the same as a human’s though, so I can probably fix it with…”

The Scrib’s eyes were glazing over by now and they slowly closed. His lips were a fair shade of blue.

“Fuck it, no choice,” Jane grabbed for the nearest table, slapping a tray of food to the floor. Thankfully the steak knife she’d spotted before was within reach. “First one of you to cry about this doesn’t get any good drugs for the rest of the mission,” she called out while slicing the man’s trachea open.

“Straw, pen, ANYTHING AT ALL?!” She shouted at the onlookers. They scrambled around frantically, coming up with the odd bendy straw from god knows where. Jane slowly inserted the straw into the incision, listening for any wheezing or airway problems, back burner-ing the thought about how many possible infections she’d have to treat because of this mess.

“She’s killing him!” Someone cried.

“Shut up!” Jane shouted back. “Somebody had better already be getting the nurses in here!”

Jane straddled his prone figure, balling one fist up and putting her other hand on top, placing them on the Scrib’s chest.

“Starting compressions SOMEBODY COUNT!”

Nobody started counting.

Damnit. Old school it is.

“Uh uh uh uh, staying alive, staying alive,” Jane sang, compressing in time to the beat. The aliens around her were panicked, incoherent, and generally distracting.

“You’ll crush his sternum if you keep that up!”

“The Human is trying to kill him!”

Jane barely heard them.

“Broken ribs can heal, but we can’t treat a dead patient! Stop distracting me and shut up already!” Jane kept up the compressions. “Uh uh uh uh, staying alive, staying alive…”

Doctor Huhuma and the nurses crashed through the doors to the mess hall, gurney in tow, right as the Scrib man opened his eyes. He flailed weakly a bit before Jane calmed him down.

“You’re okay, you’ll be okay, but don’t try to breath through your mouth right now. Listen, listen to me, I had to open a small hole in your throat so you could get air in, so just stay calm. These guys are gonna get you to med bay and get you all fixed up, okay?”

The Scrib looked dazed and confused, but nodded anyway. He slowly touched the straw sticking out of his throat and looked Jane in the eye. Jane put a hand on his shoulder and he clutched it in his own.

“You’re going to be okay.” Jane said it slowly and deliberately, squeezing his hand, willing the idea into existence. Huhuma and the nurses came over and loaded him onto the gurney. He seemed distressed at the idea of separating from Jane but once she assured him she was coming along he relaxed. Or relaxed as much as he could with a hole in his throat.

At least the aliens in the mess hall had stopped screaming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was a brave thing you did today, Doctor Shaw.”

Captain Skitch had arrived in the med bay not long after the Scrib man had finished surgery. Jane had gotten to close up the incision herself after they’d administered epinephrine and he’d gotten his air way open again.

The insectoid captain had never heard of anaphylactic shock before, so when they explained it, he was stunned.

“It was nothing Captain. Scrib biology is basically just smaller human anatomy, so the two are close enough that I could wing it without a problem.”

“Absolutely not, that man would have died if not for you,” Huhuma interrupted. “I never would have thought of that. Leave it to humans to figure out that more damage would be the fix.” She laughed that hearty laugh again from deep in her chest. Jane enjoyed it.

“I’m putting you in for a commendation, Doctor Shaw. Doing your job or not, that was nothing short of miraculous. And I’m sure Ensign Mirn would agree with that.” The captain gestured to the Scrib, Mirn, now peacefully asleep on a recovery lounge.

The captain left, but not before hearing about the two missing lasers, saying he’d look into it further.

Jane dropped into a chair. She realized she’d never actually gotten to eat anything for dinner, and was starving, but the last thing she wanted to do now was eat.

Huhuma dragged a chair over to her and sat down beside her.

“Busy day, huh?”

The sheer simplicity of the question made Jane burst into laughter, so much so that her sides ached and there was more than one tear in her eyes. Huhuma joined her, and together they filled the med bay with stupid, laughing relief.

“You know,” Jane started as the giggle fits died down, “I was actually bored this morning. Like bored bored, like I was daydreaming about hostile takeovers of the ship bored.”

“I know, you were looking at the same file on the computer for 20 minutes without blinking.”

“Shut up, I was not.” Jane laughed again.

“Anyway, that was this morning. After all that with ensign Mirn, I think it’s good. Being bored I mean. Like, we’re the doctors, if we’re busy it’s probably not a good thing, right?”

“You’re not wrong there. Just remember, the ship hasn’t even been out a week yet. There’s still plenty of time for things to get… interesting.” Huhuma bumped her shoulder into hers, smiling. Jane could feel another blush coming on.

What is with me lately? She thought. A cute monkey lady smiles at me and suddenly I’m a teenager all over again!

“Well anyway,” Jane said, getting up before her face got redder, “it’s getting late, and now I’m too exhausted to eat, so I’m just going to go sleep until the end of time.”

“You’ll be here on time or I’ll come get you.”

Damn, not getting out of here without blushing.

“You got it, boss. Good night.”

“Good night, Jane.”

Jane rushed down the halls to her quarters. This job was going to be anything but boring it seemed.

[blood-orange-juice]

ok so ive never properly played genshin and don’t plan to but i know a bit about it’s lore and characters and i think it’s really neat. however i have thousands of hours on ffxiv. on that note please explain why graha and childe are similar. i only have very basic knowledge on childe and i gotta know

Fellow ffxiv enjoyer. <3

(anyone asking me about G'raha has a 100% chance of getting a wall of text and I'm not apologising for that. enjoy your wall of text)

I'm not entirely sure I'm not a case of a person with a hammer to whom everything resembles a nail, but I do think they are the same archetype.

Sweet characters who could have been perfect sidekicks (who still are perfect sidekicks) but listened to too many epic tales as kids and found themselves in a wrong place at a wrong time and now have to play a key role in some universe-changing story.

Both are defined mostly by their stubborness, they are not very suitable for the roles they've chosen and fail over and over again until they do it somewhat right (barely).

No matter how badass they look, their power is not their own, G'raha is a glorified technician of someone else's miracle and little else than a living key, Childe wields an art of old Khaenri'ah without fully understanding it. It's all borrowed from someone else who needed them to achieve a goal.

They do look badass, but mostly because they larp. I'm honestly not sure which one enjoys theatrics more.

Civilisations that created the magic they use specialised in perversion of the natural order of things. They try to use it in relatively noble ways and mostly hurt themselves but the flavour is there.

Both are unbelievably tragic and both somehow make their stories seem almost lighthearted. Complete absense of self-pity. I think that's what makes them both so charming, it's a rare trait.

Both have an incredible capacity for loyalty and love and an incredibly twisted view of what relationships look like. "I'll cross time and space for you, I'll die for you, I'll build a city for you, I'll live for you but please don't ask me to share my plans." "I'll sacrfice my own health and respect of my subordinates to keep my brother's happyness, probably my humanity too, but don't expect me to actually interact with him."

Both have something that looks like self-sacrificial tendencies bordering on suicidality while being, if we are honest, a self-serving trait (partially born out of low self-esteem but still self-serving). They want to live in an old myth and sacrificing oneself is a perfectly reasonable price for that.

Huge egos. And I mean Huge Egos. It's a bit less obvious in Graha's case but I know the type, you see guys like that in PhD programs a lot.

Huge dorks. Both of them.

Both are stuck somewhere between human and non-human and, hmm... their ability to remain human is the most astonishing quality of both. By all accounts, neither should have. They somehow did.

Both are incapable of lying to the point where a third of each fandom headcanons them as autistic. Both are somewhat all right with tricking people without technically lying (although Childe had more practice).

Both are secretive because no one would understand anyway.

FF XIV is a kinder story, so it's easy to overlook, but technically G'raha is a case of body horror, accepts the role of a villain for a while and hides from the player way too much. Hmmm... Where else have I seen it. Hmm. Oh right. That ginger guy from Genshin.

Minor things:

Both are little shits and enjoy annoying the hell out of people they dislike.

Abysmally bad fashion sense. There should be a name for this particular type and level of bad. I don't think I've seen this anywhere else.

And then there's the colour scheme. Red+black+white+blue and red+black+light grey+blue (it's an "anime magician" color profile, I think. black-red-white as alchemy colours + blue as pure magic/something elemental). Childe doesn't quite fit but still the combination is rare.

They way they talk. Dear gods. Who the hell talks like that.

Here's where the similarities end.

One is morally grey but ultimately a good guy (technically. I think the point of ShB was that Emet and G'raha are almost the same), another is a morally grey but still (kind of) a bad buy.

At every step of his story Graha is surrounded by people who love or at least appreciate him, Childe is pretty much on his own and surrounded by people who are either shitty or clueless.

G'raha is kind. Truly and astonishingly kind, in a doomed world he chooses to love everything he touches. Silly little priest of hope. Of all the things he has done this is the most wondrous, I think. Not the time travel, not the city he founded, just being able to remain kind after everything that happened to him.

Childe is... well, Childe. I think he is a deeply decent person (to the point of having a visceral distaste for any kind of unfairness) and he's idealistic but he's indifferent more than he is kind. Empathy usually develops only when someone has shown the person empathy first and, as far as we know, he didn't have much of that in his life.

Also G'raha builds things. Childe breaks things. Childe breaks pretty much everything he touches.

One is an archeologist and a mage and another is a warrior.

I think these differences are caused mostly by the settings they were put into. Childe raised in Sharlayan would have been a very different person. G'raha trained by a voidsent and shipped off to Garlean military would look very much like Childe.

G'raha also has a beautiful character development arc. I love his ShB role. He has this huge ego in the raids and is insufferable and then we see an older and wiser him with a bunch of actual achievements and a bad case of impostor syndrome (trying to do anything real always humbles a person, we all know that real world is held together by sticks and scotch tape. honestly, this change alone is beautiful). And he gets to be an actual hero when he abandons all hope to be Important and resigns to die as a nameless villain if it saves everyone and spares his loved ones from heartbreak.

Childe's character development is yet to happen and I'm not hoping for much but we'll see.

The only difference that definitely isn't created by setting is that G'raha is naturally manipulative. In a kind-hearted way and mostly for the sake of better larp but he isn't that straightforward. Childe is spectacularly blunt for all his mysteriousness.

As a bonus, they both compare main characters to stars, but in completely different ways.

"No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course," says G'raha to the WoL.

Childe mentions the morning star, which is, of course, pretty and a good companion to a lonely traveler, but also it's not a celestial body you can chart your course by.

It's a guy whose signature weapon is called "Polar Star" and his first artifact set was full of nautical themes, so I think he fully understands what he's saying. "You are my friend but I won't change anything in my life for you."

So I don't think his story will be anything like G'raha's, his life took a different turn very long ago. I do think they used to be similar as kids, bookish boys who dreamed of adventure and being special. So it's fun to compare.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. <3

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: December 15, 2024

Reworked Character #4: Fio Germi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, alcoholism, and SA.

Real name: Fiolina Hortensia Germi

Alias: Teatime in the Battlefield

Occupation: Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and the lead medical technician of the Regular Army’s special forces

Retirement plans: Become a sports doctor and astrophysicist, open up a bakery, and start a family

Special skills: Chiropractic and massage therapy, knowledge in military medicine, housework, acupuncture, and astronomy

Hobbies: All types of sewing (hand sewing, machine sewing, embroidery, and quilting), ballroom dancing, giving her friends massages, cooking delicious meals and enjoying it on a picnic outside, and frequenting petting zoos, nature reserves, and art and outer space museums

Likes: Peppino, being in Tarma’s arms, the beauty of nature, baking cakes and other sweet treats, and reading books on the stars and constellations

Dislikes: Scolding hot and freezing cold baths, the time she had to wear orthodontic braces, insects and creepy crawlies, sneezing on the battlefield, and thunder

Favourite food: Homemade sandwiches and gelato

Favourite drink: Iced tea (preferably Queen Mary)

Sexuality: Heteroromantic demisexual

Gender: Female

Age: 15 (in 2022), 21 (in 2028), 23 (in 2030), 25 (in 2032), 27 (in 2034), 34 (in 2041), 36 (in 2043), 37 (in 2044), and 40 (in 2047)

Blood type: O+

Weight: 145 lbs. (66 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 2” (157.48 cm) Italian mesomorph with sloping shoulders, upper arms that carry some of her weight, a bit of belly fat, voluptuous breasts and hips, and prominent thighs. She has olive skin, droopy blue-grey eyes, and brownish freckles scattered across her face and neck. Fio has straight, slightly messy orangish-brown hair that falls just above the middle of her upper back, framed by blunt bangs and chin-length, layered sides. However, she typically wears it tied up in a ponytail. Her fingernails are painted an English lavender hue, and she wears thick, winged dark brown eyeliner, a soft rosy red blush on her cheeks and nose, and cherry blossom pink lip gloss. As a result of battle injuries and her own clumsiness, she bears a bullet wound near the centre of her left calf and numerous cut marks, stab scars, and scrapes on her arms and legs.

Her military gear consists of polarised, silver-plated transition lens eyeglasses, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a cordovan Eisenhower jacket. She wears a pink lavender T-shirt with a dogwood rose stripe running along the front and a carmine bra underneath. She wears carmine gloves and a gold-buckled leather belt to secure her ebony army cargo shorts, which fall just above her knees. She also wears ebony paratrooper boots, dogwood rose knee and elbow pads, and over-the-calf bittersweet shimmer socks. She has a khaki waist pack attached to the back of her belt, which carries her nail polish, lip gloss, eyeliner, two makeup brushes (a large one and a small one), a makeup sponge, and a powder blush palette. She wears a leather sheath for her hatchet, a gun holster for her handgun, and a holder for her tonfa.

The pockets of Fio's Eisenhower jacket carry around an embroidered cockade of Italy pin and a Ventolin inhaler. It carries a wooden calico Japanese Bobtail maneki-neko figurine, which is a gift from Eri. The figurine wears a metallic green collar with a red stripe and a gilt-brass bell. Its right arm is raised, and its left paw holds a koban coin. It also carries a metallic green mystery watch with a transparent crystal dial that showcases black hands in the centre of a crimson inverted triangle. Shimmering saffron-yellow Roman numerals, ranging from I to XII, are positioned around the dial, separated by three dots each. The pockets of her army cargo shorts carry a canister of pepper spray, a bottle of azithromycin pills, and a bottle of specialised prescription supplements specifically designed to manage her cystic fibrosis.

Over her T-shirt, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. Her black ammunition bandolier is slung over her right shoulder, and the back of her Eisenhower jacket features an embroidered S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo. Fio carries an ebony load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, fire bombs, stones, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, and a picnic basket filled with prepared sandwiches. She also carries her latest sewing project and its accompanying supplies, a Hexagon Arms M-3685, a cat o' nine tails whip, medical supplies, a scientific telescope, and Peppino, her greyish-brown teddy bear with purple eyes and a pearlescent blue bowtie.

She always wears a pair of teardrop-shaped pink opal earrings and a gold chain necklace featuring a red coral cornicello amulet, believed to ward off bad luck and bring good fortune. She wears a khaki army cap, once worn by her father during his military service, with the Regular Army insignia emblazoned on the front. Additionally, she wears a rosy pink armband on her left arm, featuring an European bee-eater perched on an olive branch at its centre.

Character summary: She's initially reserved and timid around strangers but warms up and opens up once she becomes familiar with new people. She's a compassionate, considerate, and overly cautious listener who's really good with children and lends everyone a generous helping hand. She's sensitive and unafraid to show her true emotions, often engaging in introspective thought. She possesses a steadfast commitment to justice, having no tolerance for individuals who seek to stir up strife, and is slow to forgive those who inflict harm on others for their own selfish purposes. Despite her quiet and calm demeanour, she's surprisingly prone to stress and anxiety, particularly when confronted with obnoxious noises, unwanted physical contact or situations where she can't escape. Even though she's a seasoned warrior, she harbours an intense fear of insects and creepy crawlies, often resorting to hiding behind Tarma, Marco or Eri and insisting they handle the situation. On occasion, she displays an almost childlike naivety and exuberance, typically after completing a mission or while off duty.

She's a very friendly and gentle clean freak who'll do anything to help out her family, friends, comrades, and those in need. She prepares all her meals with love and dedication, considering others' likes and dislikes, hoping they'll enjoy what she's made. When talking to others, she often uses lively hand gestures and animated facial expressions to emphasise certain ideas. She gets easily flustered by compliments and flirtatious advances, blushing deeply and becoming nearly speechless. She's a somewhat superstitious person, believing in things like placing one's hat on a bed being a sign of bad luck for homeowners and spilling salt being a harbinger of financial troubles. She's a nature-loving girl who's incredibly clever and always thinks optimistically. She's a great strategist who excels in keep-away tactics. However, she often pushes people away due to fear and isn't the most skilled fighter, but can fight when necessary.

Whenever she's faced with the death of a child, a comrade or friend being severely injured, being touched inappropriately or being rudely insulted, her face darkens. She becomes cold-hearted and deadly serious, and her tactical prowess shines through most. She's quite curious around strangers, nervously trailing them and asking a few questions to get to know them. Despite cherishing the importance of friendship, she sometimes feels isolated by her exceptional intelligence, privileged upbringing, and cystic fibrosis. She values maintaining a healthy work-life balance and prioritising her time with loved ones, holding both in higher regard than success. She believes that living in or exploring beautiful places helps her become a better person by gaining a deeper appreciation of the world around her.

She originally harboured romantic feelings for Marco, but they dissipated after he disclosed that he isn't interested in romantic and sexual relationships. Her affections eventually shifted to Tarma, whom she found charming due to his silliness, emotional intelligence, Hokkaido dialect, the soothing sound of his voice, pleasant smile, and knack for building professional motorcycles. She finds immense comfort in Tarma's presence and often offers him solace when he's having a rough day or struggling with self-doubt.

After her romantic relationship with him fully blossoms, she forms an exceptionally close physical and emotional bond with him. However, her tendency to become overly attached manifests at times, especially when feelings of fear or loneliness arise. Despite being in a romantic relationship with Tarma, she maintains a non-possessive attitude, unconcerned if he flirts or sleeps with other women and men, considering it his personal freedom. However, she does prefer openness and honesty, ensuring that he communicates with her about his actions. She sometimes gets into debates with Tarma about what they should or shouldn't do, but she usually remains polite and calm, focusing on finding a solution that benefits both of them rather than worrying about negative consequences. After a debate, she often apologises to Tarma and follows up with a hug.

She eventually enters into a polyamorous queerplatonic relationship with Marco and Tarma, which she deeply cherishes and further satisfies her craving for emotional intimacy. She's displeased when Nadia takes advantage of her kindness to avoid responsibilities. However, she appreciates Nadia's help with dessert-making, although Fio often has to bribe her by offering something equally sweet or letting her have the largest share of a batch to persuade her to lend a hand. She's frustrated by Eri's overprotectiveness, especially when it comes to Tarma, as it reminds her of her father's behaviour and makes her feel like she's being treated like a child. She finds Red Eye to be an incredibly intimidating person, despite their relatively friendly relationship, which occasionally involves sharing a cup of tea together.

When she's reached her limit, feels threatened or needs to express her authentic feelings about something that gets under her skin, she's capable of standing up for herself and making her voice heard. She rarely swears, but when someone's pushed her too far, she'll unleash a stern reprimand, peppered with profanities in Italian. She's unconcerned by Marco's and others' opinions that carrying Peppino is childish because the teddy bear provides her with personal comfort and solace, particularly when she's anxious or sad. Ever since meeting Ralf, who encouraged her to try new things, she has mustered the courage to pursue thrilling experiences and enjoy them to the fullest, even if they carry some risk.

She's not fond of drinking alcohol due to its bitter taste and intoxicating effects, which make her feel nauseous and slightly nervous. However, on rare occasions, she’ll let loose and indulge in alcohol with her friends, especially after a challenging mission. When intoxicated, she starts to act playful, flirtatious and sexually teasing towards Tarma, obnoxiously loud, agitated, and bluntly honest.

She harbours private reservations about the Regular Army's methods, particularly when it comes to neutralising perceived threats, including journalists and enemy-affiliated personnel. She acknowledges that not everyone in these groups is malicious, but rather, many are innocent individuals caught in complex circumstances. Moreover, she struggles with the nagging feeling that those closest to her have been conditioned to uncritically accept the Regular Army's moral stance, never questioning its motivations or ethics. However, she's deeply afraid to express these thoughts aloud, fearing deadly repercussions and unwilling to risk stirring up trouble or jeopardising the relationships she values. She often pushes these thoughts aside by focusing on becoming a better fighter and drawing inspiration from high-ranking individuals like Marco and Clark, whom she greatly admires.

She has a tendency to fall asleep extremely quickly at bedtime or naptime, and her loud snoring can be disruptive to others who are trying to rest or focus on important tasks in the same room. She would be heartbroken if Peppino were lost, destroyed or stolen forever, as the teddy bear has been her constant companion since birth. However, she would be overjoyed to be reunited with the original Peppino or receive a new teddy bear that's an exact replica. During warmer weather, she has a habit of lifting up her T-shirt to cool herself off, but tries to be discreet about it.

She believes that war serves no purpose other than destruction, resulting from conflicts that escalate beyond the control of free will. In her view, war profoundly alters the moral fabric of society, accelerating the advancement of weaponry and technology used in conflict. As a firm believer in virtue ethics, she thinks morality is about becoming the kind of person we truly want to be. To become a better person, people must cultivate values like honesty, bravery, justice, and generosity, leading to a morally righteous life and self-improvement. By practicing fundamental moral values, people develop the ability to make tough choices when faced with ethical dilemmas, learning to trust their instincts, listen to their conscience, and stand firm in their convictions. She holds that life is more powerful than death, continually finding innovative ways to adapt and flourish.

Backstory: Fiolina Hortensia Germi was born on October 2, 2007 in Genoa, Italy. The Germi family is renowned for their vast wealth, military service, and philanthropic endeavours. Originally merchants and nobles, they amassed their fortune in the Mediterranean region during the Age of Exploration and have since maintained their wealth, now managing various corporations and philanthropic organisations. True to their militaristic heritage, the Germis have participated in numerous conflicts, including the Napoleonic Wars of the 1800s, the Italian Unification Wars of the 19th century, and modern-day wars against terrorism worldwide. Sadly, many Germi warriors lost their lives, leading to an important family custom where the chosen heir of the Germi family must serve in the military.

Alessandro Germi, Fio's father, was a fearsome soldier in the Regular Army in his earlier years, serving alongside Fabriclus Roving. However, he was forced to leave military service after being severely injured during a shootout, which left him crippled and suffering from debilitating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). His body bore the scars of countless battles, a testament to the wounds he had endured and the bloodshed he had witnessed on the front lines. After returning to civilian life and receiving proper support, Alessandro successfully restored his family's struggling business. He also started a family with his beloved wife, Giulietta, a talented seamstress and manager of a luxurious art museum.

Alessandro's wish was to have a healthy son as he feared that sending a daughter onto the battlefield would be a perilous ordeal. To his surprise and dismay, Giulietta gave birth to a daughter, and due to health complications, she couldn't bear any more children. Fio's mother would also experience postpartum depression after childbirth and passed down a disease that runs deep within her heritage: cystic fibrosis. Alessandro's deep-seated fears for Fio's safety often led him to become overly protective, causing tension with Giulietta, who found his helicopter parenting suffocating.

Despite her parents' mental health struggles, they went above and beyond to care for her, providing unwavering love and support. For half of her elementary school years, she was homeschooled and her parents taught her a diverse range of subjects, including mathematics. They encouraged Fio’s appreciation for friendships, the outdoors, and the finer things in life. They even fostered her love of astronomy, gifting her a scientific telescope on her 10th birthday, which she still has to this day.

Giulietta often took her on enriching outings to nature reserves and art museums, where she learned about biology and art history. Her mother also taught her the importance of domestic duties, showing her how to do her chores and clean the house. On special occasions, her mother would dress her up in pretty dresses and give her adorable animal plushies, which she still keeps.

She was bullied and exploited by the other children because of her wealthy status and overt politeness, but her father and teachers consistently intervened. As she grew, she discovered her own voice, learning to assert herself with courage and conviction. Standing up to her bullies with firm yet gentle confidence, she effectively silenced their taunts and earned respect. Like Marco, Fio excelled in all her classes, demonstrating exceptional academic prowess and a deep appreciation for effort and lifelong learning.

However, her life took a devastating turn near the end of her secondary school days. A sudden and tragic terrorist airstrike, attributed to the Ptolemaic Army, struck Genoa, Italy, claiming Giulietta among its many victims. Her father was the most affected by this loss, turning to a life of alcoholism and self-isolation. Although Alessandro still cared about Fio and tried his best to support her, his alcoholism and newfound self-isolating behaviour made it challenging for him to do so. As a result, the butler and maids who worked in the mansion frequently took care of her.

It took time for Fio and Alessandro to heal from this loss, but they remained resilient. To cope with the loss of her mother, she turned to sewing, baking, and reading books on ancient and modern medical practices. Eventually, Alessandro sought help and went to rehab and therapy to address his issues with Fio's support and encouragement. After graduation, Fio was awarded multiple awards and scholarships, which enabled her to attend university. There, she pursued an interdisciplinary course of study, exploring chiropractics, acupuncture, physics, and astronomy.

Fio would eventually express her interest in joining the military after coming across a persuasive flyer to serve in the Regular Army. This revelation horrified Alessandro, as he didn't want to send his only child off to the battlefield, risking her life. He wanted to disregard the Germi's military traditions, believing that war is repugnant and a never-ending cycle of hate and violence. Alessandro tried to deter Fio from joining, but she persisted, driven by her desire to join the fight against terrorism and protect the lives of innocent people. He reluctantly agreed and sent her off to the military at the age of 19, but attempted to minimise her risk by using his connections and friends from his own military days to secure her a desk job, hoping to keep her out of harm's way and away from the front lines.

However, everything changed when a paperwork mistake caused by militant bureaucracy resulted in Fio's transfer to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., a special operations branch of the Regular Army's Intelligence Agency known for carrying out high-risk missions. Surprisingly, Fio was ecstatic to hear the news as she had been eager to be deployed on the battlefield and make a real difference. In contrast, her father was furious and stormed into military headquarters, threatening officers in an attempt to prevent his daughter from being shipped to the front lines.

He would often try to extract Fio from the battlefield via a private jet, but she consistently resisted. Eventually, she had enough of his overprotectiveness and bravely told him that this was what she wanted—to fight on the battlefield and provide medical aid. She assured him that she was capable of handling herself. Alessandro finally understood and let her pursue her life as a military woman. In return, she promised to keep in touch with him after each mission, providing him with reassurance and comfort.

Like Eri, she played a crucial role in the Great Morden War by providing Marco's team with useful intel on Rebel Army positions. She even went so far as to provide them with sustenance, mainly in the form of homemade sandwiches. She also dedicated herself to providing medical support for Marco's team, which led to her being recognized as the lead medical technician of the Regular Army’s special forces.

During the Extraterrestrial Alliance Clash in Hong Kong, she was seized by a ruthless group of fanatic land troops and bikers who intended to exploit her for their twisted desires. One of the deranged fanatic land troops subjected her to unwanted physical contact, leaving her severely traumatised and more prone to anxiety. This horrific experience intensified her resentment towards the Rebel Army and those who seek to spread chaos and harm. Fortunately, Tarma intervened just in time, eliminating the Rebel Infantrymen with the SV-001. Eri quickly freed her from the ropes that bound her arms and ankles.

Her countless battles against worldwide criminality, terrorism, and corruption enabled her to rapidly rise through the ranks, becoming the Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit. However, her time in the military has taught her a harsh reality: even the good guys can't always protect the innocent or save their friends and comrades. She has witnessed many deaths and severe injuries that left people crippled and traumatised in each battle. Nevertheless, with the emotional support of friends like Eri and Tarma, she has persevered and continues fighting to this day.

[crescencestudio]

On a scale of 1-10, please rate the LI's willingness to go get their nails done (in a modern AU perhaps?), if they do get their nails done, would they prefer going to a shop or have MC do it for them, and what kind of designs would they choose?

(Sorry if I asked a lot in one question, it's 1:45 AM here and I'm dying of boredom)

Kayn: 10. Loves getting their nails done!! Is open to having you do it or going to the shop together. Both would be quality time for him. I think Kayn would like colorful designs, is especially partial to gradient or marbled patterns

Druk: 3 or 4. Doesn't particularly care to get his nails done but will go if you want. Likes black colors and prefers you do his nails. The nail technicians intimidate him with all their questions LMFAO

Fenir: 5 or 6. Is open to getting his nails done but prefers a nude coat or just having clean looking nails like clear/no polish and just touching up cuticles and stuff. Prefers nail technician does it--you would make him nervous if you do his nails

Etza: 7. Would be more open to going if they were better at indulging themself dkxoapa. Prefers the simpler designs like a french tip and any other white colored nail designs

Kuna'a: 9. I imagine them kinda like Shego from Kim Possible and always nonchalantly filing their nails LMFLS. Would prefer if you do his nails. Likes more goth nails designs

Aisa: 3. Doesn't like getting their nails done mostly because they know they will mess up the nails immediately and will feel bad. I do think if you did their nails though and especially if you added decorations like little gems or something they would be totally entranced and just stare at their nails all the time

[dees-nails]

Color Changing Sailor Moon! 💜

[zyettemoon1800]

Pillarmen x reader with back problems

pillar men react when their s/o that has glasses

pillarmen react to their mate being unable to have children

Pillarmen x painter reader

Pillar men x black s/o

Pillarmen reacting to a s/o with curly hair

pillerbois with an s/o that slav squats

Explaining valentines day to the Pillarmen

pillar men be like with a s/o who has feline-like qualities

Pillarmen with an incubi s/o

General male s/o hc with the pillermen

pillarmen x s/o with abandonment issues

pillar men x black s/o when they wash their hair

pillar men x  fem.tall reader

Pillarmen x belly dancer

Pillarmen reacting to s/o cosplaying as them

Pillermen react to an S/O who lives touching their horns

pillarmen reacting to a s/o who doesn't like to be touch

Pillarmen x s/o that has a bad tooth

Giving and receiving

pillarmen react to a s/o that is allergic to ginger

Yandere Pillar men reacting their suicidal daring

Pillar men Easter

Pillarmen when they see the baby is growing their horn(s)

Pillarmen x short reader

Pillar men: Ass, tits, chub, or thighs

pillarmen would react to the reader telling them "I'm in Spain without the S"

Pillarmen wanting to cuddle

pillar men x reader who has a low iron

pillar men with a harpie s/o

pillarmen reacting to reader thigh riding them

Pillarmen reacting to fem reader catching stuff between their thighs

pillarmen with s/o that’s a nail technician

The pillar men with an s/o who can dance

Pillarmen kinks

[liminalpebble]

Loki request: Loki and reader getting mani-pedis together.

Hello my dear @eleniblue! Thank you for the prompt. This is wayyyy outside of my usual style, but was a really great challenge so I hope you enjoy it.

CW: No smut, just one f-bomb, I think. Surprisingly wholesome considering what I usually write. But let's say Minors DNI to cover my ass.

Word count: 800 (lil shortie)

Very soft and bisexual Loki x gender neutral reader (just friendship, deeper feels if you squint), soooo fluffy

----

Wrapped Around Your Finger

“NO, Loki...no way,” you said between swigs from your water bottle. You'd been training in the Avengers' gym with him all morning, and now, a sweating, exhausted, hungry mess, you weren't in any mood for your fellow Avenger's antics.

It wasn't fair that what was an intensive, back-breaking regimen prescribed by the Black Widow herself was simply a walk in the park for his Asgardian body...and what a fucking body it was. But, as you had a thousand times before, you pushed the thought away.

“Darling....why not? Be a bit of a hedonist with me. Why must you insist on being so responsible and stoic?”

You gave him a warning glare and replied, “Because you only give me those sad puppy eyes and call me 'darling' when you're about to get me into trouble.”

He came closer to you, towering over you, but grinning that Cheshire cat grin that always disarmed you. He leaned down and purred into your ear with a mischeivous whisper, “Come on. Let's have a bit of fun, eh?”

That was the final straw. You knew you were wrapped around his lovely pale finger, with its shiny black nail.

----

“This...this is new,” you said gingerly, sinking your feet into the warm bath (which admittedly, felt amazing) and slid back into the comfortable leather chair. “I've never had a manicure or pedicure before,” you admitted.

“How could you not! It's so delightfulll,” he said drawing the last word out in a low purr. “Truly, since I've taken up residence on Midgard, this has been one of my favorite discoveries.” He sighed wistfully, eyes wondering around to take in the tastefully decorated high-end salon. “After losing my royal status it scratches a rather delicious itch to have someone waiting on me hand and foot in a luxurious setting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Have you always been such a diva?”

“Well, yes.” he said, without a hint of shame, surprised that you would even ask.

You giggled as the smiling technician began working a tickling pumice stone over the soles of your feet, and Loki chuckled along with you. He reached over and held your hand, meeting your eyes, and saying with surprising sincerity, “It really is good to hear you laugh again.”

Grinning you said, “Well, I have to admit. This is sort of fun, but it feels weird to be...well...waited on. Some of us aren't royalty.”

“Well, for now you can feel like you are. I knew you'd warm up to it,” he said just as two more technicians came over to begin on your hands. The one working on Loki's nails took up a friendly chat with him. He was clearly a regular.

After a bit, he looked thoughtfully back to you. “I wanted to do this for you as a gesture of gratitude. Of all of our colleagues, you've been the only one who listens to me and accepts me willingly, rather than out of begrudging necessity. Dare I say, you rather like being around me?” he said with peaked eyebrows and a bit of fragile hope in his voice.

“I do,” you replied, meeting his eyes. “I like our lunch dates, and how you drag me shopping, or to the movies. You even make training more tolerable. You get me out of my comfort zone.”

He scoffed. “My dear, we both know you can't be left to your own devices when it comes to fashion. You'd probably live in those...what are they called...'sweatpants'? How many novel experiences would you forgo if not for my encouragement?” he said, as he raised his long lovely hand and inspected his now perfectly shellac-ed nails. They gleamed like black patent leather with a layer of twinkling emerald glitter and gold flake; a striking contrast to his porcelain skin.

You gave him a knowing smirk. “You're fishing for compliments, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Indeed I am, poppet,” he confirmed, again, without an ounce of embarrassment.

“Your nails look spectacular,” you said, knowing he wanted more. And he gave you a disappointed look, hungry for more approval.

“And I am very glad to have your friendship. In fact, I might even say you're my best friend. The misfits of the team need to stick together, right?”

“Indeed they do,” he agreed with a regal nod. “And darling...”

“Yes?”

“I am also very fond of you,” he said, those big pale aquamarine eyes glimmered with confusing, exciting implication as they met yours.

Then he pulled back, smiling in faux-innocence, saying lightly, “Now...all finished. To brunch. Shall we?” and offered you his arm.

@queen-paladin @littlespaceyelf @goblingirlsarah @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @sweetsigyn @peaches1958 @muddyorbs @gigglingtiggerv2 @peacefulpianist @coldnique @holdmytesseract@infinitystoner @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @glitchquakee @ladyofthestayingpower @marcotheflychair @sarahscribbles @sailorholly @tripleyeeet @acidcasualties @alexakeyloveloki @icytrickster17 @chokeanddagger @joyful-enchantress

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Statistical Outliers

Part 4 and 4.5 of drabble. Couldn't really figure out how I should chop it up so, extra long one this time. Still working on something else in the meantime.

“Voxtek is proud to present the newest innovation in headset technology. Gone are the days when the screams of the damned or your annoying mother-in-law ruin your gaming experience! The sound cancellation on them is guaranteed to see you through even the noisiest situation!”

As if to accent the point, Vox, while wearing them, stood in front of comically large speakers. The sound cut out just as the speakers activated, the force of the sound enough to send his employees flying. Vox, himself, couldn’t hear anything. A quick press of a button to the side activated a secondary feature, sound filtering.

“And if that wasn’t enough, they can also filter out any sound you want, save for your voice. Again, perfect for the unfortunates still stuck in their mother’s basement! Not only are they connectable to any and all of your Voxtek devices, but the wireless communications can hook up straight to your speaker function. You can take your call and enjoy walking through a scream park without a problem! The perfect gift for a busybody like myself!”

On cue, Velvette slid into frame, sporting a brand new, very modernized outfit. On top her head was the special one she requested, the one with ears. The lights dimmed ever so slightly, and Velvette’s outfit jumped to life, including glowing eye shadow and, of course, the frames of the ears. Again, not sure why it was such a necessity but he’s rolling with it.

“And right now, we’ve got a specialty line of them, working in collaboration with Velvette Designs! You might’ve seen them on the web lately! These items are limited release, so get them while their hot!”

Then, of course, the finale.

“Here at Voxtek, we strive for innovation! So Trust Us and take a look at our newest product!”

Before the commercial even finished, the limited release items sold which, at least informed Vox, that Velvette had once again been right. Apparently, people were fighting each other tooth and nail outside of stores for a set. Muggings and an odd black market popped up almost immediately. And that also meant the knock offs were starting up too, things that only ever made his products look even better by comparison. People wanted these things so badly that they were willing to risk getting ripped off. And these were people that hadn’t been hypnotized. Odd.

He might’ve felt compelled to thank her, but the kid was reward enough. Speaking of…

He watched him sitting there in her studio like a glorified trophy. Velvette was working on some designs that Val came up with for his models, things that looked trashy and were made even trashier. Naturally, that just wouldn’t do for their brand. While Vox didn’t usually care about this sort of thing, especially since none of Val’s workers ever wear clothes long enough for it to ever be noticeable, he will admit that it looked better on the poster if Angel wasn’t wearing cheap stockings and fake leather.

Anyways, the rest of the studio was treating the kid like a set piece, something to look at, coo at even, and then quickly return to work. He wasn’t speaking, but he was sunken into the couch like a boy dragged out to go shopping. Just sit, smile, and pretend everything everyone puts on looks lovely. Velvette had him in an oversized sweater which only made him look even punier. Looked good in pictures though, he noted as he scrolled through her recent posts.

He waved the footage away. He had other matters to attend to.

Like, for example, filming that segment about the horrors and potential health hazards of a specific frequency of radiowaves.

…

Just a few more hours. Then, he’d turn in for the night. Just had to go over the stock list again, product numbers, sales, and finally the new pitches his lesser technicians came up with. Only a few more things to do…

His sharks started to swim agitatedly, circling more, and then disappearing from his peripheral. Oh, great. He had a guest. Three guesses who.

“Val, I don’t have time for this right now! I’ve got-”

The smell of coffee caught him off guard. Val didn’t bring him coffee. He brought coffee to Val sometimes, but the only person who brought him coffee he threw off the building the other day. He didn’t expect him back to work so quickly either. Huh. Employee loyalty was a heck of a drug.

“Ah, great timing, and here I thought I’d have to go grab one myself-”

When he spun the chair around, he was greeted to the kid. He had a tray in his hand. Sitting atop it was a coffee, apparently handmade, and a muffin, chocolate chip from the looks of it.

“What’s this?”

The kid opened his mouth, then promptly shut it without uttering a peep. Vox rolled his eyes.

“You can answer when I ask you a question. What is this?”

“Black coffee, only a sip of cream. And a chocolate chip muffin.”

He peered at them, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not fucking blind. I know what they are but what,” He gestured. “is all this?”

“You…you’ve been in here all day.” His ears folded behind him, granting him an odd insight into just torn up he seemed to be. “I notice you haven’t eaten anything for hours…and I thought, well, you know.”

“…where’d you get the coffee?”

“The coffee bar.”

“How’d you know what I liked?”

His ears perked up almost immediately, and a thin smile crept up on him.

“So I was right?”

Well that remains to be seen. He snatched up the cup, the need for caffeine just overriding caution. Sure, it might be poisoned, but the deadliest kind around here was Val’s kind, and Vox regularly makes out with the man. If it was going to kill him, it should’ve done so already. Now, that didn’t mean he didn’t do a secondary analysis, testing the coffee as he chugged it down. The results came quick, almost as quickly as the warm liquid hitting his stomach.

It was…coffee. Black, with just a sip of cream. Actually, this was better than the ones his assistant made for him on the regular. That’s…not what he expected.

How exactly had the kid figured out his order?

Not that he’d admit that he liked it, of course.

He made a sour face, looking at it like it had been poison.

“Disgusting.” He tossed his hand up before the kid made a move to take it back though. “But better than nothing I guess.”

He snatched up the muffin this time and took a bite. Okay, it was actually good. Warm still, the chocolate was melted slightly into the muffin. Their kitchenette wasn’t fully stocked, so he had to assume the kid used the ingredients from his cooking kitchen. A quick double check at least told him that the kid cleaned up after himself so…not so bad. Certain things were out of place and would need fixing before his next kitchen segment, but it wasn’t a bad price to pay, sort to speak.

“God, kid. Where’d you learn to bake? You should get your money back.” He snarked.

But, as he chanced a glance, the kid’s delicate smile grew slightly. His ears weren’t pulled back anymore. In fact, they flicked up with excitement. It was annoying.

“What?”

The kid’s attention flickered between the coffee cup and the remains of the muffin. There was pride drawing on his cheeks, almost turning them flush. He had to pull back the urge to shock some sense back into him.

“Well, why don’t you run along now? You’ve handed over your revolting-”

“But you’re eating them.”

He blinked. Did this kid just interrupt him? Him?

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” He quickly added. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t look sorry. In fact, he looked almost gleeful. Had he been among friends, Vox imagines he’d be bouncing off the walls. Even his tail was wagging like a dog.

And there was only so much disrespect Vox could take in one turn. Especially to his face. And despite the coffee and snack.

“Get. Out.” He sneered through his teeth.

That wiped the smile off the kid’s face. His ears tugged down again, and his tail pulled at the bottom of his legs. His eyes drooped as he nodded, bowing out. His head lifted only for a moment, peering at the aquarium. Vox couldn’t see it directly, but the mirrored image of him in the glass seemed to wag a friendly finger towards his man-eating friends. He didn’t stop walking though. The door hissed shut as he left, giving Vox back his space.

The coffee was warm on his hands. The warmth seeped into the very soles of his shoes as he took another sip. You’d think he’d be used to the cold now, since he often kept this room colder than others to save his monitor’s the extra workload of having to cool. But heat was something he craved, just like moths crave the moon.

He bit into the muffin again. When was the last time he had a chocolate muffin? He can’t remember. He should look back into the security footage, steal the recipe for his next dessert special. At the very least, he needed to write it down so that when his assistant does finally reform, he can have it whenever he wants.

Work called back to him again, even as he polished off the muffin. The coffee made the extra time bearable, as usual. Not great, but better.

The news was the usual assortment of dramas. Another turf war has broken out, pitting southeastern kingpins against each other in a violent exchange that encircled the block. Fifty eight dead so far, but who counts death that aren’t permanent anyways? His new headsets were doing wonderfully, and the fakes were proving themselves to be both a disappointment and, as Velvette keeps tabs on such things, akin to social suicide. It was Voxtek or nothing.

And not to worry, they should have new shipments coming soon! It’ll only cost an arm, a leg, or a soul.

The bitterness of the coffee held back the sweetness leftover from the snack.

Alastor was asking around now, about the kid. He caught him disappearing to the cannibal part of town, old stomping grounds to him. There were less cameras there, but he didn’t need them to know that he’d be visiting his old gal pal. Rosy, for all else that she was, knew a lot of gossip. Gossip that, ironically, really wouldn’t help here. Alastor should know that. The kid wasn’t even close to there when Vox’s men picked him up. Was he dragging his feet? He seemed less enthusiastic about the kid’s safety than Vox would’ve expected. They had seemed close. Well, as close as any of those deadbeats seemed to be. Alastor wasn’t the type to purposefully turn his back on a friend…or potential ally. Then, he considered how similarly he was treated once upon a time. Close enough to seem close, but never enough to truly care. For a moment, he wished the coffee was more bitter.

Finally, after a few hours slipped into a few too many, Vox was done with today. The rest had to wait for tomorrow. What was the point of being an Overlord if he couldn’t draw the line where he wanted? Oh, wait, no. That project needs to be reviewed and-

He caught an odd alert. Someone was looking something up on his T.V., something not in the library.

Sitting there on the couch, the newest waste of time sighed to himself as his search yielded no results. Vox tapped into the camera just in time to hear him complain.

“Oh, come on! He has to have it here somewhere. It was his show.”

A show of his? He brought up the search.

Well…it was one of his, one of his first ones. Back when he was still fresh off the hooves of the mortal realm fads. It was a sitcom of sorts, featuring characters dealing with life in a POW camp during the war. It was so old; it was still filmed in black and white. Half the actors in it had died to exterminations. One had drained his career down the bottle and drugs. Another had faded into obscurity when he refused to sign on for a different project, an insult Vox treated kinder back then.

It had been fun though, at the time. One of his first big breakout shows. People ate it up. Until times changed and tastes changed and no one wanted to hear about that war anymore. Vox got with the program. He wasn’t about to let an opportunity slip.

Unfortunately, that was the end of his first experiment. He gave it one last episode, ending like any other, before moving to the next thing. It’s too bad too. He’d been hoping the end of that show would showcase the actual end of the war, but…well…as he said, times had changed.

So, what was the kid doing looking it up? He hadn’t the slightest clue.

The kid kept digging, trying to find it on his streaming, his internet, even digging through the cabinet looking for DVDs. He wasn’t going to find anything. Once everything went to digital, that was the end of the DVDs.

He had half a mind to call Velvette up and tell her to watch her pets. In fact, he was going to but…his fingers curled around the warm mug.

Ugh, fine. Whatever.

A ping noise popped over the T.V., making the kid jump to attention. Look at that! All eight seasons of the show just got downloaded onto the platform! Aren’t you lucky?

He’d not seen so much joy in someone down here in a long time. Like, childhood giddiness. He was smiling like it was Christmas and the first present he opened was the one he wanted all along. It was odd, to say the least.

“Yes!” The giddiness spread to his legs now, and he could barely keep from leaping off the couch as he turned it on.

The intro song played. It was a chipper tune, playing along the lines of the old marching songs but lighter toned for general audience viewing. The kid knew every beat of it, and he twitched his head to the drum. Personally, it’d always been an earworm for him. That’s one of the reasons he went with it. Anything that could stay inside your head all day was something you’d give another watch later.

But, again, it’s been a while since any of this aired. It made sense that he’d still remember the beat. He invented it. The kid had no reason to know it, not this well. Maybe he heard about the show from some old sinner lurking about, that he could kinda understand even if he didn’t get the fascination with it. But knowing the song?

The more he watched, the more he realized that the kid wasn’t just excited to see the show, he was a fan of it. He knew the characters, knew the catchphrases, knew the twists. Hell, he seemed to know most of the episodes in general, from guest stars to side plots.

By the time he’d finished with work, the series was up to its last season. It’s this one the kid fell asleep watching. Vox wasn’t even sure the kid ate anything this whole time. Vel and Val were still out partying or whatever at this ungodly hour of the night. Given how he hasn’t moved at all, he can only imagine that Velvette abandoned her little toy or, worse, expected Vox to make sure he was still alive by the end of the day.

Speaking of food, he’d need some himself. The coffee was gone hours ago, and the muffin felt like a lifetime away to his stomach. He could make himself something. Hey, those cooking shows weren’t just an act. But that would require so much more work than he felt capable of right now.

He dragged himself away from his monitor room, his pet sharks darting about for one last look at their owner before the doors slammed shut again.

Was the meatloaf he made the other day still there? Probably not. Anytime Val smokes too much, he devours any leftovers that managed to make it the day. The bar had some snacks stocked in it, some for Velvette and some for bar prep, namely lemons, limes, and small accompaniments. At this point, he’d eat a whole fucking tree of lemons if he had to.

When he got to the longue, episode eighteen of the last season was playing. He remembers filming that one, where the POWs snuck out dressed in drag to pretend to be army nurses for the other side. At the time, even in hell, the drag caught people off guard, mostly because Vox made sure it damn well looked convincing. He snickered to himself as the lieutenant asked if the outfit complemented his figure. That was an adlib. The actor actually asked to keep the costume afterwards. Vox obliged.

Okay, now, bar.

He found some of the spread snacks lying about: crackers, chips, and different cheeses. He also found the whiskey, which he needed after a day like today. He grabbed them all and sat at the coffee table, just as the characters flirted past the guards to get to the secret plans hidden in the hospital. Ordinarily, they try not to eat here, on account of the expensive furniture and because Vox himself has made a habit of standing on the furniture when he got too excited. But with both of them gone, he didn’t care.

As for the kid, well, he was too small to take up much space on the couch as it was. That, and he was curling up as much as possible, so he hardly took over much more than elbow space. He sat down beside him, eyes unfocused and starting to drift.

In the world’s worst excuse for a sandwich, he smushed a piece of cheese, the kind didn’t matter, between two crackers. He downed about twenty of them before he reached for his whiskey. Yeah, there definitely wasn’t enough of that for tonight. He finished the bottle way too fast. Great. Well, better get back to the crackers. Otherwise he was gonna have a massive migraine later. And that just wouldn’t do with the morning news!

God, he needed another drink-

“Do they get out, in the end?”

He almost spit the crackers and cheese out like a rocket. Thankfully he didn’t. Velvette would throw a fit if she sat down and ruined an outfit on spit out, half chewed crackers.

“Where you just sitting here the whole time awake-?”

“Because the last episode doesn’t say if they got out.” As the kid pouted and, before he could even come up with an intelligent response, noticed the empty bottle and snack food. “…is that your dinner?”

If he wasn’t so tired and, admittedly a little tipsy, he might’ve snapped at the kid for talking over him, then not even giving him the second to think. As it was, the alcohol, the sleep deprivation, and growling of his stomach was making his mind a little too fuzzy to answer like he normally would.

“I dunno, kid. Didn’t think too much on it.”

“…regarding the show or dinner?”

He blinked slowly. It didn’t make the world stop spinning.

“Both. I think both.”

The kid went silent for a moment, just enough time for him to sit up a little bit more. Geez, was he always that small? Was it just his stupidly big ears that made him look bigger?

“I can only make muffins.” The kid announced randomly.

He swears his processors were lying to him. He did not just say that.

“…What?”

“Lucifer taught me how to make muffins, but I haven’t figured out pancakes yet. Do you want PB and J?”

“The fuck are you on about, kid?”

“Everybody says hangovers suck, and that it’s worse if you don’t eat anything. You want crust or no crust?”

The alcohol was swimming in his brain too much. The kid had a point. He’s drunk too much and ate too little. What would the viewers say tomorrow if Vox, the Vox, looked like he drank himself stupid the day before? Logically, his numbers automatically fed back to him, he should eat something.

But his mouth wasn’t running by his logistics, unfortunately.

“What do you mean, ‘everybody says’? What, you’ve never been hungover?”

The kid’s face pursed like he ate a lemon, or a girl with kooties tried to kiss him. Revolt, the kind that only kids had for stupid things like love, baths, and vegetables, tugged on his face.

“I make it a point not to drink anything I could run a car on.”

A deep throated laugh burst from him. He’s not even sure where it came from. It kinda just puked right out his mouth and filled the room.

“That was funny.” He managed between filling his lungs. “Where you always funny, or am I way too drunk?”

He doesn’t think he should’ve said that last part out loud now that he thinks about it. Thankfully the kid didn’t answer the stupid question with a stupid answer. Instead, a small grin peeked under his muzzle.

“So, PB and J?”

He put the bottle down, the empty clang of it echoing in the room. He forgot how quiet it was when everyone else was gone. He was so used to this being their space, their collective space, that any time spent alone felt…odd. The kid wasn’t much. Even drunk off his ass, he couldn’t really compare to having one of the other Vees here.

But, you know, he was funny. A bit.

And he offered peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Even the other Vees never offered as much when he was drunk, not that he remembers anyways.

“Yeah, kid. Go make me a fucking sandwich.”

“Okay, but don’t watch the last episode without me!” He leapt up and over towards the cooking set. Again, he needed to chase his staff over and clean that up later, for tomorrow’s lesson. He was going to go over a filet mignon with red wine reduction sauce. That was the plan. Now, for some reason, he was wondering if he was better off showing how to make muffins.

The intro song played again. It was the last episode of the series. Nothing special, he didn’t get to have the grand finale he’d once envisioned. It was still as good as any other episode though. And no, he didn’t feel like waiting either.

The kid came back with the sandwiches about a fourth of the way through. He had removed the crust and sliced it down the middle to make two even triangles. It was a fucking lunch his mother could’ve packed him for school. He was eating school lunch. He didn’t feel drunk enough to be eating school lunch, though he was just hungry enough to cave.

It was good, obviously. Hard to mess up PB and J, especially with his own ingredients.

“I told you not to watch without me.”

The kid huffed as he bit into a different sandwich, also peanut butter and jelly.

“Did I ever say I agreed to that?” He mentioned back.

“…you’re kinda a jerk.”

Of all the insults he’s taken: the curses, the lengthy speeches, the loudmouth screeching of a certain radio, he’s not sure he’s ever been called a ‘jerk’. It was so wildly immature, but not in the ‘I’m spouting whatever curse comes to mind’ kind of way. But, probably because he was drunk and because it wasn’t the usual cursing white noise it hit harder than expected. Like, he laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it.

“A ‘jerk’? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” His toothy grin might remind one of a shark, though it probably looked less intimidating with peanut butter all over his teeth.

The kid shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just seemed to be the word that fit best, I guess.”

Somehow, that was even more insulting.

“…shut up.”

He did as he was told, staying quiet for a good couple of minutes, but Vox didn’t really talk much either. He usually loved talking in the middle of movies or shows, partly to annoy but partly to entertain when the watchability wasn’t there.

“Do you still have the sets from the show? I know sometimes people in Hollywood would reuse sets.” The kid asked, interrupting the silence. And giving Vox plenty to talk about.

“From this show? Nah. We used some of it for other programs at the time, but a lot of it was scrapped when we branched out into Sci-fi shows. The space race was a hell of a time for TV.” Notably, the kid seemed genuinely upset to hear that, though something about the sag of his shoulders told Vox that he expected that answer.

And, okay, he was still drunk and not thinking right.

“I’ve got the captain’s hat in my closet.”

The kid’s jaw snapped open.

“Really?”

Wow, he just wore his emotions on his sleeve, huh?

“Yeah, it’s got all the pins on it still too.” Why had he kept it? Even he didn’t really know the answer. There’s been a few times where he’d thought about throwing it away, like the rest of the old, outdated junk but…well, then there were moments like these. When drunk, he liked thinking about those stupid passion projects. It was better than focusing on more recent events, usually.

“That’s so cool!”

Well, that might be going a step too far.

“It’s just an old hat, kid.”

“From a classic show!” He argued. “It just sucks that Hell doesn’t have museums or something.”

His show as a dusted up old display in a museum? Even drunk, that sounded suspiciously like an insult.

“That’s because Hell is the museum, kid.” He flashed his teeth again. “Too many old bastards long past their time hanging around and dragging their fucking heels. It’s all a museum and a fucking zoo down here.”

To that, the kid didn’t seem to have an argument. He gave up a little sigh.

“You’d think people with knowledge from, like, thousands of years ago would be really cool.”

“Fossils.” Vox, now hitting a little too close to his chest, stopped smiling. “Just a bunch of fucking fossils who are pissed off that the world didn’t fucking stop turning when they died. Bunch of narcissistic assholes who think everything should revolve around them.”

The kid stopped mid-bite and just looked at him. After a moment, it started being pretty funny.

“Hey, the world actually does revolve around me!” He stated. The kid raised a brow and gave a slow blink of his eyes. “It’s true! If it wasn’t for me, nothing would’ve ever changed down here. Trust me, before I got to Hell, you would’ve thought we were in the dark ages.”

The episode’s outro played, a reprised version of the intro song. As the last episode though, it seemed a little slower pitched than he remembered, as if it wanted to go on just a little bit longer. It was an absurd thought, especially since all episodes fitted nicely into the exact TV slot allotted to them, with commercials. None of them were any longer than others. But this? It seemed longer. Did he do that on purpose? He doesn’t remember doing that on purpose.

He snatched the remote before the kid could. His eyes were dipping a bit from the need for sleep, and the cocktail of PB and J and whiskey settling in his stomach. So, rather than take a chance on the remote, he flicked the signal between his fingers, telling the TV to put on a game show. Guess he still had old crap on the brain because the one that popped up was one of the ancient, prerecorded ones. That was back when TV was on more of a schedule, meaning that at some point in the night the broadcasts would stop.

It was a non-creative project, something he’d ripped off from a show he’d used to watch, except instead of trying to figure out someone’s job, you’d typically be figuring out how they died. Vox had found some pretty amusing ones over the years. One of his favorites was the guy who’d been reporting the weather and died when a fish leapt out of the water and smacked him in the face. Poor bastard wasn’t even sure if it was the impact of the fish that killed him or if it was falling off the dock and getting run over by a boat.

Some of the best ones resulted in sinners that looked really fucking weird, because, apparently, part of being in hell was remembering, forever, how and what killed you. He remembered a guy that looked like his face was squashed by an old cartoony hammer because he’d actually died to a piano being dropped on his head.

Vox, of course, had been the host. Some other demons filled in the guessers’ positions, people who’ve long faded into the background of his mind. In this one, a demon resembling a polar bear wrote his name down and sat beside Vox as the questioning began.

“He got sliced by a hockey skate, didn’t he?”

Okay, color Vox surprised.

“How’d you figure that?”

“’Cause his fur looks like a hockey jersey and he keeps trying to hide his neck.”

Huh. He supposed that was true. Maybe he’d seen the episode before though. Maybe he was just lying. Well, there was one quick way to test it.

“Not bad. Alright, here’s a tougher one. How did I die?” He challenged. He better not say he got crushed by a TV. He’s heard that one way too many times, and he was sick and tried of people assuming he got knocked off like a looney tunes character-

“My guess would be a power surge.”

“…huh?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t look like you’ve got any scars on you, but you’re a kind of dark blue everywhere. And you short circuit the city when you get mad. So, my guess would be you got electrocuted or something.”

That was a first. Obviously, his death was a little more graphic and detailed than some random electrocution. Here, come watch the death of your favorite TV star! Live for one night only. Or alive for one last night only. And there were still people out there that thought the chair was merciful. Merciful, my ass. That shit had hurt.

“Couldn’t be further from the truth, kid. You really suck at this.” He teased. “But since we’re on the subject…”

There honestly wasn’t much to go on for the kid. He was used to having these answers behind an info card, rather than having to guess himself. Sure, constant practice showed some consistent things. He’s not sure how the fox part of his appearance played into things, but he could spot the pattern of his ears and arms well enough. The slight glint of his freckles reminded him more of taillights than of actual freckles. Also, he was a kid. What was the most obvious thought there?

“What? You go chasing after your ball and get hit by a car?”

The kid suddenly found interest in his feet, kicking them around like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oh, he could picture it now. A stupid little kid on his way to school, playing in the street when all of a sudden-

“I got run over by an eighteen-wheeler.”

A What?

“Come again?”

“I was driving my car, took my eyes off the road for a second. An eighteen-wheeler had come barreling down the road going the wrong way.”

What the fuck?

“Like, run over though? Not just crashed into the car?”

He nodded.

“I think that’s why I’ve got treads on my arms, legs, and ears. If you get my meaning.”

Holy shit. Like karma was a bitch and, yeah, obviously the kid was down here for…something but-

“Was it quick at least?”

The kid bit his lip, and his body curled closer to him.

“I…I just remember the headlights.”

He was lying. Vox knew that. Oh, fuck, that’s a hard way to go. Plus, he’s a kid. He felt like his brain was running too many programs at once, never a smart thing to do while intoxicated.

“How old are you?”

“Um…twelve, I think. Maybe thirteen. I…I don’t really remember. Time’s so weird down here.”

Twelve? They threw a twelve year old down here with the likes of serial killers, sex offenders, and power hungry dictators? What the fuck did he do? Did he accidently bring a super psycho into the Vee tower?

“Where you murdering other children behind the school cafeteria or something? How does a twelve year old get into hell? You’re not even alive long enough to do anything. Or big enough. Or have a functioning brain.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No, we are clearing this up right fucking now. Why are you down here?”

He was not going to let this go. The last thing he needed was for a deranged little twerp like Alastor’s girl running around stabbing things. Sure, he hasn’t shown any of that yet and he did check into that loser’s hotel but he’s learned better than to trust that. If the kid wasn’t going to spill, he’d just make him, with a quick suggestion of course.

“I…I mean.” The kid shuddered, and he seemed to gulp down air. “I-I went for a drive. It was dark, and it was raining. I-I honestly d-didn’t mean to hit him! He just walked out from the woods somewhere a-and I-I-I didn’t see him.”

Oh. Well, that made more sense then. But damning a twelve year or thirteen year old for an accident? Seemed excessive, even to Vox. Usually he punished people for, you know, actual mistakes. There was the occasional fuck up that couldn’t be ignored obviously, but he’d think kids would get a special pass, at least.

“So, what? You bury his body in the middle of nowhere?”

He shook his head.

“I just…I just panicked. I drove off…I…I didn’t even try to help.”

“…okay, then what? You lie to everyone and get someone else convicted?”

There had to be another reason…right?

“No. I only drove another few miles before the truck happened.”

Wait. Wait.

“You mean to tell me that you got damned to hell because of an accident? You? A kid?”

“…I…I think’s it more because I ran instead of helping-”

He said more but Vox toned him out because what the actual fuck. No wonder hell was overpopulated. An accident? An accident was all it took to send an otherwise innocent soul to shack up with the murderers, rapists, and tyrants of the world?

You knew something was wrong when he thought that heaven or whoever was in charge of this nonsense went too far.

“I am not drunk enough to process this.”

“You’ve had two bottles already.”

He had? Huh. Where’d the second bottle come from? A quick look revealed that he was holding a bottle, a different one from the one on the table. Though, from his spot on the couch, it’s started to look like four bottles rather than two. Again, not a good sign.

A quick check of his internal clock told he needed to be in bed like two hours ago if he’d planned on getting up without issue in the morning. He went to stand, putting just the barest amount of weight on his legs when he felt them buckle. Okay, too drunk and too weak to walk. Brilliant.

“See that blanket over there?” He gestured to the same one the kid found yesterday, labeled with their logo in that warm flannel knit. It was on Val’s couch which meant it might not exactly be clean, but if he’d been scared away by that about Val, they wouldn’t be in their stupid little back and forth all the time. “Go get it.”

He did as he was told. Being sober granted him the ability to at least check it before bringing it over. In that time, Vox pushed around pillows, making a small wall that he planned to use as a rest for his screen. The kid held the throw out, and he wasted no time in tossing it over himself. He always had to make sure it didn’t accidentally cover his fans, least he overheats and really needs a tune up in the morning. Almost as soon as he laid down right, everything in his body seemed to be losing power. Feedbacks were starting to fail. Limbs started turning to jelly.

“Do I have to sleep on the floor again? It’s cold on the floor.”

“Kid, could you just shut up? I’ve had too long of a day to deal with this.”

“…is that a no?”

Sparks started flying about his face, some getting dangerously close to the blanket. By now, most of the casual fabrics lounging around their inner sanctum up here have been made fireproof. Live and learn and all that. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been known not to melt a few of them when in a particularly bad mood, anger he tries to keep tight on a leash.

Except when he’s drunk. Like now. Which is a bit of a problem.

Calm down. You don’t want to set the tower on fire now, do you? No, you don’t. That’d be bad for the reputation, the brand’s reputation, and especially your reputation. You don’t want him to win again, do you?

Plus, you’d have to deal with pissed off Val and Vel.

He steeled his nerves and opened his eyes a bit.

“Clean this shit up and I’ll think about it.” He wouldn’t. He’d be passed out long before clean up would be finished.

“…pinkie promise?”

Were pinkie promises deals? He didn’t think so. Nothing in his database said they were.

“Yeah, sure.”

Despite the dark circles on his eyes, the kid was surprisingly springy. And trusting, because he seemed to just take Vox’s word on the matter. He caught him bounding around the table like a jack rabbit in his fading peripheral vision, his red fur blending in with the maroon hues of the cushions around. Right before everything went offline, he had an odd moment of clarity.

He was unarmed, drunk, passed out on the couch at the disposal of someone who would literally only gain from his death. It wasn’t like he was under contract. His guards wouldn’t be so stupid as to let the kid leave, but it’s not like any of them could reach him in time if, say, the kid poured the whisky into his outlet.

This is a bad idea, he concluded. Then he knocked out.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

[sicariusvoit]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐎

──────────────────── ⋅🕸⋅ ─────────────────────

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Lee Duval

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Elias Jasper Voit

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐑: Sicarius

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒: David Lennox, user45125, & AmonUser12859HB88

𝐀𝐆𝐄: 37 (although this is usually verse dependent)

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 5’ 8” (178cm)

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Not very tall or physically intimidating, Elias is still broad shouldered and muscular. He usually wears plaid, t-shirts, knit sweaters or henleys with a pair of levi jeans. He prefers work boots but will also wear sneakers and gym wear when playing basketball.

𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Elias’ eye colour is a very dark blue.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Elias’ hair colour is a chestnut/auburn brown, its style in a short back and sides cut with his curls on the top. They usually sweep down on the right side of his forehead.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: Elias uses a lot of slang terminology to seem unassuming and uneducated or for the purposes of pissing other's off with a 'joker/jester' personality for attention, he usually tends to mock people with the use of terms like ‘aw’ in a show of fake pity. When pissed off he always uses imperatives.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: Elias will hunch up if trying to seem small, usually this occurs if he wants someone to believe they’re in control even if they’re not. He often fiddles with things or stims with his fingers if he’s emotionally overwhelmed. Elias is also a nail biter when anxious or stressed. When speaking he gesticulates a lot. Despite being an amazing masker, he is extremely expressive, he can’t hide how he’s really feeling if the mask slips or he chooses to take it off.

𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄: White American

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Elias is incredibly well educated, however, officially he only holds a high school diploma and a qualification in software engineering at community college. Elias became a black hat hacker in his late teens and early twenties. From there he continued to educate himself.

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Network Security Analyst and Technician (these are subject to change based on threads because I write him both before and after his incarceration).

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: Software Engineer

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒, 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: Elias is extremely skilled with computers and communication technology. He is good enough to frequently stump Penelope Garcia. Elias is an effective killer skilled with all manner of weapons: knives, guns, explosives, and drugs. He is self-trained in crime scene clean-up and basic forensic knowledge. He has a special interest in insects and entomology. Finally, Elias is a talented singer and plays acoustic guitar to an advanced level. Elias is also a great cook, he often prefers to make breakfast but would happily cook any meal. It's part of his love language.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃: Elias was born Lee Duval. His mother and father had an abusive relationship, Lee was born prematurely because of domestic violence in the home. When his father started hitting him as well as his mother, Lee burned the apartment down by putting a blanket over his bedroom space heater.

Suspecting the truth, his uncle Cyrus Lebrun, a gun runner for the Mala Noche Brazilian-American gang adopted his nephew. Cyrus and his brother Travis were born into poverty in a Texas trailer park. They were exposed to violence from a young age and developed into it together. Whilst Travis, Lee’s father, became a wife beater, Cyrus became a serial killer. The only reason he adopted Lee was because he believed that Lee had inherited his genetic predisposition for psychopathy and wanted to shape Lee in his image.

From a young age Cyrus then began to train Lee in his chosen ‘way’ of killing people. Cyrus created rules that he indoctrinated into Lee whilst he murdered people in front of Lee and forced Lee into helping dispose of the bodies. After one incident where Lee attempted to help a captive of his uncle and instead was harmed, Lee left Cyrus hoping to break what had been beaten into him.

No matter how hard he tried to fight it, however, it didn’t work. Soon Elias began to hunt people himself. When Lee killed Jasper Voit and his son Elias, Lee changed his name to Elias Jasper Voit and started to live life under his new alias.

Using shipping containers that he found buried underground, Elias started to carry out experiments. He wanted to test various methods of murders on people out of morbid curiosity: how many ways can a person die? Elias started with low risk victims such as sex workers, homeless individuals, and drug addicts but soon began to kill upper middle class people from suburban neighbourhoods.

Meanwhile, Elias was still trying to live a normal life. Hiding the morbid parts of himself, Elias fell in love with Sydney. They soon married and had two children Holly and Harlow. Elias is extremely problematic but his only positive part of his personality is the genuine love he has for his wife and his children. Even after his incarceration his family maintain that he was always a good father.

By the time the Behavioural Analysis Unit capture him, he has killed 62 people. The moniker Sicarius is given to him by the media because one of his more bizarre experiments included pouring Sicarius spiders down someone’s throat to see how long it took for them to die from it. His signature is meeting his soon to be victims on a ‘Second Street’ because that was where his parent’s apartment was located.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒: Not everyone wants to write with a villain, I get that. Elias has a slightly more palatable verse where Cyrus Lebrun didn’t adopt him and he went into the care system. However, in this verse he keeps his birthname Lee. After being bounced around a couple of abusive homes, Deidre and Thomas Baker adopted Lee Duval, making him Lee Duval-Baker. They provided a good home for him and a solid foundation for his education.

At the age of 21 Lee is accepted into the police academy. First starting as a beat-cop Lee works his way up to the position of homicide detective in the Houston Police Department. Whilst he is not a murderer, he does still exhibit signs of aggression and issues with authority, often working outside of the law to enforce it.

──────────────────── ⋅🕸⋅ ────────────────────

[dee-in-the-box]

mind if i ask for more kennedy family hcs,, the brain rot is real

hoo boy, i have a lot:

did i mention that they're all autistic? i don't think i mentioned that...yeah, definitely not (< lying. i mention it every chance i get)

Peter doesn't (entirely) blame Jack for what happened to Dee (Jack had to work that day and couldn't stay with her), but he does believe that Jack should've at least gotten her a babysitter to stay with her at the diner.

Peter actually sued Henry for defamation (of Jack specifically). he won because he had the rather undeniable evidence of, i dunno, Jack Was Literally At Work When The Murder Would Have Happened.

^ this definitely won't cause any problems between those two later. definitely not. (< so uh. Henry Might've Had Some...Other Motivations For Killing Peter That Day)

Dee is just as chaotic as Jack is. she lived with him for a while, after all

Dee actually scratched at, and bit, Henry while he was killing her. and by bit, i mean she bit him hard enough to break the skin.

she regularly cussed out Henry after she died. she'd tell him to Fuck Off, call him and Asshole and a Dick, you name it. She Does Not Like Him

Peter is transfem and bigender, using he/she pronouns.

Peter has black nail polish. surprisingly, The Factory decided to keep it after he died. thought it looked cool i guess (it does :])

Jack has a mullet

Peter and Dee have a tooth gap

Jack takes after their dad more (despite being a trans man) and Peter takes more after their mom. Dee is basically a pretty good balance of the two

Peter doesn't swear a lot, so when she does, you can tell shit is Serious

Peter's death pissed Jack off.

Peter couldn't remember much of what happened, only getting vague flashes of things, so Jack and Caroline helped him out :]

Peter and Caroline have a son named August. Yes I'm Giving Peter A Son Again

Dee did not go with Henry willingly. he basically dragged her back there after she constantly told him no.

Dee is very much a cat person.

had Dee gotten to live, she probably would've figured out that she was aroace. listen, just. She Gives The Vibes

Jack carries around a small cat plush. it was meant to be a gift for Dee on her birthday. now, he uses it as a reminder of why he's doing all of this.

as far as Jack's concerned? Henry messed with the wrong fucking family

Jack worked as a nightguard and technician at Fredbear's prior to Dee's murder

Jack's always had some...problems. the guy's an open transmasc in the 60s/70s, autistic and not at all interested in masking too much, and was bullied a lot in childhood. mix in his parents (who he was Really close to) dying unexpectedly right before college, leaving him to care for a small child way before he was ready, and a drinking and smoking problem? yeah...you can probably guess that, by the time he was working at Fredbear's, He Was Probably A Little...Short-Tempered, So To Say.

Peter, as a Phone Guy, recognized Jack, but couldn't tell how he recognized him.

even without knowing who Jack was, he sort of subconsciously went straight back into Older Brother Mode (fucking around with and teasing Jack, getting upset when Jack smokes (because he didn't like Jack risking his health even Remotely), and being more Lenient with Jack's screw-ups, unlike Steven, to name a few)

i'm gonna stop there for now, but know that I Have More

[appynonna]

Our Universe Chapter 5: A New Friend! Pairing: Poly!OT8xoriginal chararters Rating: 18+ Word Count: 2,794 Words Warning: pet names, Hinting at GxG relationship, talk of possible pregnancy.

Previous Chapter -> Here

Arthur notes: Hello, Deary So we won't see much of the guys in this chapter but it going to start bringing in new people and other idols. I really hope y'all are enjoying this so far!

--------

I went to grab my purse out of the car as she locked the building up. The ride was quick with loud music. Yechan had left Dune in her office, saying that he would be fine and that she would pick him up after she was done.

the small talk was a little awkward but that should have been expected. For almost the year I have been together with the guys, I had only been around Yechan a few times. She has a room and office at the house but for whatever reason she doesn't live full time there. She might stay a night or two a week but she has an apartment inside the city limits.

Seonghwa had once told me that she had gotten together with Yunho when they were still in Secondary Education, Yunho was also close friends with Mingi in Secondary Education. The other relationship came together slowly and 6 years later it is what they have now. I honestly don't know what to call it.

I had never been in any kind of relationship like this, The level of trust that is needed for 10 people to all be together at the same time is outstanding. There were rules in place to help. Being honest and upfront about things, was the biggest rule. We were allowed to see people outside of our little circle, but most of their relationships don't last for one reason or another, most people don't like the idea of sharing I think.

Turning onto the road that takes you back to the main street square Yechan random started to laugh over the song she was previously singing. I turned and looked at her "You know, If you're not already on birth control you might want to get on some." She said still laughing, I just started at her my mouth gapping " Yunho was telling me last night that they have a bet going as to see who will get you pregnant first" I could feel my mouth drop You better close that Bunny or you'll catch a fly" She was laughing again

"Are you serious? I asked her not believing my ears. Yechan just nodded "You might want to bring it up to Yeosang, If you would like to get on something," She said pulling up to Rhea's Salon.

The Urban Glow Studio and Spa was a privately owned and run hair salon and spa that Rhea had built from the ground up. they offer a line of different services, Everything from normal hair cuts and dye jobs to Nails and full spa treatments. She was working two jobs when she brought it. Buying the cheapest building she could find, Gutted it, and then built it from the ground up. It was her dream to have this place.

Walking into the salon from the front door you're hit with the smell of watermelon and sea salt. It was an odd combination but it worked for her. Due to spending so much time here, that was what Rhea also smelled like at any given time.

Today she had her long burgundy colored hair pulled up to a might messy bun and top of her head, and was in her normal work 'uniform'. Black pants, a black shirt, and her black/white Mike shoes. She also had a blue and silver bracelet on her left wrist. Today she was wearing a purple holographic apron and had what looked like Hello Kitty bandaids on her fingers.

Rose the spa technician was wearing an identical outfit but with a knee-length skirt and was spinning around in one of the Unoccupied salon chairs, and the nail tech Hannah was sitting at her workstation currently working on a set of nails. I walked over to Hannah as Yechan walked over to Rhea "What are you doing" I asked sitting down in the green comfy chair placed in front of her desk

"I am currently constipating every choice in life I have ever made and deciding what bridge I'm going to jump off of," she said then took a sip of her yoo-hoo through the straw. I laughed at her "Someone must have given you a crazy order and offered so much money you couldn't say no?" I asked, Hannah just nodded never taking her eyes off the nail before her.

I leaned over the table to look at them. They almost had a catholic look to them, The base was white with a risen gold top and little green stones throughout. A little bit on the bolder side for me "That is insane" I said to Hannah, Not a moment later Rhea walked up to me holding a black container with a lid "Here" she said holding it out to me "Knowing you the only thing you have put in your stomach this morning is coffee" I smiled at her "You know me so well" I took the container from her as three different voices yelled my name "For shame on you" Rhea shook her head " The spa area is up and running if you want to go out there, You know where everything is" She throw her hand up as she walked away

Inside the container were chocolate and caramel drizzle apple slices, Turning back towards Hannah she shook her head, Opened a draw on her desk, and pulled out a pair of wooden chopsticks "Throw them away when you're done" Then she started back on the nail set.

I stood up and walked to the glass door in the back of the shop, passing the hidden stairwell up to the second floor. Upstairs is mainly used as storage but it does have a full-size studio apartment attached to it.

I pushed the door open heading outside. The back Spa was a nice little space. There was a small fire pit off to the left with four wooden chairs around it, A stone path that headed up to a large inground Spa hot tub, and the control panel next to it.

Walking over to the hot tub, I turned it on and then grabbed a towel to sit on from the sealed container that Rhea stores the outside towels in. I took my heels off the stuck my feet in the hot water.

The apples were fresh, the dish most likely made this morning by the staff to snack on. I grabbed my phone out of my bag. No missed calls or new messages.

I opened the messages between Yeosang and me as I thought about what Yechan said in the car. I am not ready for kids. I typed a quick message to Yeosang.

Ari 9:23 am - Are you busy?

I locked my phone and sat it down reaching to get another apple slice. Before the apple was in my mouth, my phone rang. I answered without checking who was calling.

"Bonjour Ari, je parle" (Hello Ari Speaking) I said pushing the bite of the apple to the side of my mouth "Doll, Je ne savais pas que tu connaissais le francais" (Doll, I didn't know you knew french) It was Yeosang, I could hear the smile in his voice as well as loud voices in the background.

"I know the basics, but I need to practice it more," I told him leaning back on my right arm "I am more than happy to help you" He officered " but what's going on, I thought you were with Yechan today?" He asked, I could hear the light tone of concern in his voice.

"I am, I just have a quick question for you," I told him lightly kicking my feet in the hot tub. "I was thinking about maybe starting birth control, "I told him "Is that something you could give me?" I asked "Unfortunately it's not, I do have a good friend here that I would trust you to see. Would you like me to set up the appointment for you" he officered " I think so," I told him

"ok, I'll set it up and send you the time and date, But Ari. Are you ok?" he asked I could hear him moving now along with a door opening "I'm OK, I was just talking to Yechan and it got me thinking is all" He sighed "She told you about the bet didn't she?" He asked " I told them it was stupid" He muttered quickly "She did" I wasn't going to lie to him

One of the biggest rules was no secrets within the family " It just got me thinking, Yeo I'm not ready to have kids" I told him, He chuckled a little bit I honestly don't think any of us are" Yeosang replied. "But that's perfectly fine, it's your choice. None of us will force you into anything" He told me, I could feel the relief flooding my body. I wasn't sure if it would be a deal breaker for any of them.

"I do have to let Hongjoong know about your appointment. You know the 'when and where', the rest is up to you" He added I could almost see his soft smile " I do need to get back to work, But I'll call Chungha and set everything up for you. Love you" He said and then was off the phone. I do feel better now, I wonder what is going to be done at the appointment.

I closed the container and just sat there in peace for a minute, not worrying about anything. After a while, I ended up lying down on my back, with my feet still in the water. I closed my eyes.

"Ari" I could hear a voice calling but it sounded far away "Ari" It called again but louder this time. I opened my eyes.

Standing above me was Rose, with her perfectly long strawberry blonde dyed hair pulled back in a half updo, loose curls falling over her shoulder. A black bow sat at the back of her head, holding the hair in place. Her dark brown almost black eyes blinked at me slowly, showing off her perfect eye lineer. She always looks so effortlessly flawless and feminine.

"Yechan is almost done, If you want to come back inside. We ordered pizza too." she told me holding a towel. After drying my feet off I put my heels back on following her down the walkway back into the shop.

Walking back into the hair salon at the same time the front glass door opened. I didn't pay any mind to the door and went over to Yechan "What do you think?" She asked, I picked up a stand and played with the end. It was still so soft "It fits you" I smiled at her and looked back over to Rhea for a second and then back to Yechan. "It should, It's my natural color," She said with a sad smile

Yunho had told me once that Yechan had normally kept red in her hair but having to get it touched up every so many weeks was bad for the hair, It was slowly liking her hair. " Just because it's your natural color doesn't mean it's the best look for you." I smiled placing my hand on her shoulders and looked at her in the mirror. Yechan gave me a funny look "Ari" she started but was cut off by a guy calling "Pizza!"

Turning to the guy, corrected two guys. The guy holding the pizza boxes looked like Rhea, He looked a little bit on the dorky side with his fluffy black hair and big happy smile, the same smile Rhea gets when she gets on a kick about something she is passionate about.

He was wearing denim overalls over a black shirt. The shirt had some kind of pink writing but I couldn't tell what it said, along with plain red converses.

The guy standing next to him was looking over at Yechan and me, Rhea turned toward us as well "Bros, this is my brother Seungmin and his friend Jisung," she told us Her brother Seungmin had already turned around but the friend was still looking at us.

Jisung was strangely beautiful in an effortless way. He was sporting dirty blond hair over a black shirt with spiderwebs and pink wringing on one side of the chest and an odd shade of jeans, they looked both blue and pink at the same time. His face was bare with wire-rim glasses low on his nose.

Yechan next to me now had the flat iron trying to curl a little piece of hair in the front, It didn't want to cooperate with her already curly hair. "Here let me," I said taking the iron from her, Yechan handed it over without a fight.

Picking the piece up to start curling it, the friend of Rhea's brother walks over to us. He rubbed his hands on the front of his pants, nervously. I raised an eyebrow to him " The color looks really good on you. Makes your green eyes pop" He was flirting with her openly, It was very cute "Un ha" Yechan just looked at him a little bit suspiciously. I told her I was done.

Turning the flat iron off and sitting it down on the cooling pad I walked over to Rhea, She quickly sat her her phone down. Almost slamming it onto the counter. "You ok" I asked her, She was as white as a ghost. "I'm fine, It was just a weird email" she stated and then smiled "Pizza?" She asked holding out a small plate.

There was a chicken Alfredo with bell pepper, A Hawaiian style with ham, bacon, and bell pepper on it. Another was pepperoni and Italian sausage with green olives and extra cheese on what looked like a pan crust, Then a classic pepperoni and cheese pizza.

The two boys laughed at themselves after opening all the boxes. "What" Yechan asked the blonde boy next to her. He stumbled slightly, Looking at her. Jisung eyes went the size of dinner plates. "Just thinking about a friend of ours that strongly believes that pineapple doesn't go on pizza" Jisung stated running his hand through his hair "Or burgers" Seungmin added laughing.

As it should be" another voice added coming through the door. The guy who entered was about the same height as Seonghwa, He had narrow dark eyes. Wearing navy blue dress pants, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black dress shoes.

He walked up to Jisung " I need some help with these packages" He grabbed his arm then started back to the door, Jisung pulled at his arm playfully "No I don't want to help, They have Pizza!" he whined throwing his arm towards us"Sammy the pizza!" Jisung fake cried. "Too bad" and 'Sammy' pulled Jisung out the shop door. For a few moments after the door closed you could hear Jisung whine about how hungry he was. Yechan laughed, I looked at her "What, That was funny" she shrugged picking up a slice of pizza and taking a bite of the pepperoni and sausage pizza.

Rhea was picking at her pizza. Seungmin was giving her a questioning look, as was I. "Are you ok?" We asked at the same time. She looked back and forth between us for a second. "I'm fine, just not hungry" She shrugged her shoulders, The spaghetti starp falling. I gave Seungmin a funny look. Neither of us believed her, Something was off. But I trusted my friend, If something was wrong she would tell me.

After about 30 minutes of sitting around the 'Waiting room' talking I could feel myself getting antsy, I started to poke Yechan's shoulder as she was standing next to me.

After about six pokes Yechan took a deep breath "Bunny, I swear to the gods above if you don't stop poking me and tell me what you want, I'm going to pin you to the wall next to you" I yipped, "Will you go with me to the new dress shop? I asked her, Not able to meet her face. I could feel her lean in close.

"Maybe if you asked nicely," She said softly next to my ear. I hid my face in my hands, trying to cover the blush now covering it. "Yechan laughed "I'm just messing with you," She said placing her hand on my shoulder "Of course, I'll go with you," She squeezed my shoulder then let it go.

"Thank you for the new color Rhea, It's great as always" Yechan stands up. I followed her towards the door "I'll message you later" I told Rhea heading out to door behind Yechan.

[funkylilworm]

Name: Andy

Full name: Andy D. White

Age: 10 yrs old

Mental disability/ies: ADHD and Kleptomania

Race: Black

Ethnicity: Creole

Birthhome: New Orleans, Louisiana

Guide: Sedrick

Physical appearance:

Coco brown skin, hazel brown irises , plump nose, black locks (the tips being a dark purple), 27 inches tall, and around 270 pounds

Clothing Appearance:

A dark green and dark turquoise striped t shirt underneath dark grey overalls,light blue and black braces, a dark purple yellow and dark green cap , black glow in the dark sneakers, and a black backpack with a yellow star on the front

Items:

•School backpack (was just heading home before he first ended up in Fairyland)

•Lucky cap (dark green, dark purple, and neon yellow)

•Braces rubber bands

•Mystic Candy sword (w/ a sharp golden blade)

• Mr. Rawr ,extremely soft glow in the dark lion plush (will fuck up anyone that touches Mr. Rawr , Andy is extremely attached and overprotective of him)

•Black sneakers (stolen from a different guest in which he took down)

•Scrapbook

•His mom's hair product kit

Personality:

▪︎Positive traits-

Adventures ,Kind hearted, Takes shit from no one, Unique (very strange), Nerdy, Helpful, Brave

▪︎Negative traits-

Impulsive (adrenaline junkie), Stubborn ,Greedy , Insecure ,Unforgiving ,Snarky , Unpredictable

▪︎Nuetral traits-

Mute (does not speak at all) ,Steals anything that's not nailed down ,and Has a blank expression most of the time

Hobbies:

Parkour, skateboarding, exploring, karate (he took karate lessons before he ended up in Fairyland) , drawing sketching and/or doodling (an amazing artist), computer technician, Fandom culture, and magic tricks and card tricks

Likes:

Parkour, skateboarding, exploring, karate (he took karate lessons before he ended up in Fairyland) , drawing sketching and/or doodling (an amazing artist),computer technician, Fandom culture, and magic tricks and card tricks

Favorite food/s and drink/s:

Chocolate ice-cream cake(misses that), pepperoni and meatlovers pizza (misses that), cheese balls (misses that), lasagna (misses that), chili hot dogs (misses that), gumbo(misses that), and Benyas(misses that)

Dislikes:

Fairyland, the amount of traumatizing adventures he has to go through (knows that he has no choice), Gertrude , Cloudia, having constantly being jumped scared by how bright his surroundings is , wet socks , being interrupted , rude people, being shoved ,bullying ,loud chewing , his name being said incorrectly, being misgendered, bigots , creeps , and physical touch

Pet Peeves:

Wet socks, being interrupted, rude people, being shoved ,bullying ,loud chewing , his name being said incorrectly, being misgendered, bigots , creeps , and physical touch

Background/Backstory: Andy is a 10 year old that's from New Orleans, Louisiana and he lived with his physically mentally emotionally and psychologically abusive parents named Diamond E. White and Xavier A. White ,not only that but their parents always fought and argued.

The only solace Andy got was from his older sisters named Rosie J. White and Zariya B. White, his French teacher Louise Faucheaux , and his karate teacher Calvin Faucheaux (Calvin and Louise not only is two married men, but the two are a lot more fatherly towards Andy than Andy's own dad).

Until one day while heading home, Andy randomly got sucked into a hole that led to Fairyland!!

Name: Sedrick

Fullname: Sedrick L. MCNewton

Age: 24 yrs old

Mental disability/ies: Autism and OCD

Species:

Human (to guide): Andy

Physical appearance:

Really really small and chubby light green fly with yellow beady eyes

Clothing appearance:

Hot pink top hat, periwinkle purple monocle, light blue and periwinkle purple sweater, underneath the sweater is a white button up, and a hot pink bow tie

Personality:

▪︎Positive Traits-

Sophisticated ,Fatherly ,Charming, Intelligent ,Laid back ,Confident ,Snarky

▪︎Negative Traits-

Sleazy ,Lazy ,Greedy ,Materialistic (Really really loves money), Arrogant ,Can be a jackass at times ,Perfectionist,Addictive

▪︎Nuetral traits-

A big anxious scaredy cat

Hobbies:

Lockpicking and pickpocketing

Likes:

Money, Lockpicking, pickpocketing, looting , drama , adventures ( but only if it includes an award or payment), rewards , dabloons , chamomile tea, green tea, peppermint tea , and coffee

Favorite food/s and drink/s:

dabloons , chamomile tea, green tea, peppermint tea , coffee , snickerdoodle cookies, sugar cookies, cheese cake, and brownies

Dislikes:

Pet names, vulnerability, getting attached to people, the rich , Adventures, danger , long lines, waiting , people (hates socializing), socializing, loud chewing, Touching, shoving, germs , gross sounds noises and imagery , getting blood on his clothes , and black liquorice

Pet Peeves:

Long lines, waiting , people (hates socializing), socializing, loud chewing, Touching, shoving, germs , gross sounds noises and imagery , getting blood on his clothes , and black liquorice

Background:

Childhood- Had a terrible childhood, his dad proceeded to abandon him with his mom ,who than started abusing him (lived in a very rich family ,where his mom helicopter parented him)

Upbringing- Ran away where he ended up living a life on the road traveling as a child with no parents and living the life as a charming trickster that'll pickpocket and scam people out of their money to live

Adulthood- Now lives a lone where Queen Cloudia ended up assigning him as Andy's guide ,which he has tricked Andy into trying to abandon Andy multiple times before the two slowly but gradually started to trust each other

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS MOMENTS: Hobi & Grace - Watermelon Nails

If there was one downside to comebacks, it was the nails. Everytime there was a comeback with music videos to shoot, photoshoots to do and then performances to do, Grace’s nails always had to be done. The nail technician took great delight in creating specific designs relating to the song or album but making sure they were workable as well. And Grace took great delight at having them cut off until the next time. 

But here was comeback season and they were in L.A to shoot their music video for Black Swan. Grace’s hotel suite had been set up as a wardrobe and a beauty parlour just for her since she had three (or even more, she had lost count at one point) outfit changes. Not only that, they were in the process of dying her hair to a honey blonde for the shoot. Beauty, as it turns out, took time. Which is why the stylists, hair team and nail team were getting an early start the day before the filming. 

“I’m hungry,” Grace pouted as the nail technician held onto her hand, painting the fake almond-shaped nails perfectly. The other hand was currently under some kind of UV light. 

“What do you want?” her manager asked from the couch, feet resting on the coffee table with the remote control on his stomach after he had found a channel that showed American baseball.

“I think Hobi had some watermelon so that would be nice. And another cup of tea would be great, maybe some squid jerky if we have any,” Grace asked. She would have turned her head to look at her manager but it was currently in the process of being dyed. 

“I’ll go and have a look at what we’ve got. Anyone want anything else?” he asked, slipping on his shoes. Once her manager got the staffs list of snacks, he closed the door to the suit behind him. 

It was nice to listen to the hair stylist and nail technician gossip, with Grace joining in when she could. Most of the time she was around the boys or even the male staff, who treated her as some kind of royalty and normally wouldn’t converse with her. Her manager didn’t give two hoots anymore and routinely shared the latest gossip and stories. Her bodyguard was just as bad.

“Snack delivery!” Hobi declared from the door, holding aloft a bowl of cut up watermelon and a tea cup with a straw. “Manager-nim is on snack store duty but he won’t be long.”

After bowing to the stylists, Hobi pulled a chair to his noona’s side and took a good look at her. Within a few moments, he grinned and hid his laugh behind his hand. “Ah noona, you always look funny during these times.”

“I hate you so much. Are you going to feed me or not?” she playfully glared, pulling out her hand from under the UV light to show Hobi her nails before she was instructed to put it back in. “I’m currently in nail mode.”

“Of course, that’s why I’m here,” Hobi said as he speared a piece of watermelon onto a fork and held it to Grace’s lips. The fruit was soon devoured. 

“Guess you were hungry. Must take a lot to have your nails and hair done?” he laughed, giving her another piece.

“You have no idea,” Grace muttered around the fruit. “This comeback is painful, in more ways than one.”

“But you look good. ARMY is going to have a field day when they see you blonde again with those nails and those outfits. I’ve just been having a look at them,” Hobi added as he angled the straw to Grace’s mouth. 

“I’ll end up dying but as long as the music video looks good who cares.”

“I’ll make sure to get plenty of photos of your nails and hair to show ARMY of your sacrifice. Those are pretty pointed though. You sure you’re not going to poke an eye out?” Hobi mused as he stood and leaned over the table to look at the technicians work.

In quick retaliation, Grace poked Hobi’s side with one of the nails in question causing him to jump and squeak. “Who do you think I am? Namjoon?”