#I love her so much almost as much as I hate drawing her accessories

[blueastrum]

Malleus can you dad and your adoptive dad fight

[quiescentem-puella]

Till's expressing himself through clothing – a rant

today's sad alnst thought of the day is that no matter how you view round 6, I think it's undeniable that ivan was able to give back to till a piece of himself that he lost after witnessing round 5

and i'm talking about this

I think Till outfits are important when it comes to discerning his mental state/attitude, both because of plot-related reasons (imo Till has a degree of power over deciding or at least selecting his clothes) and also character design (in a media like alnst, where most things are said by showing them, it's clear that vivimeng put lots of thought behind the visuals). We know nothing about the behind-the-scenes between r6 and r7, so we can just LOOK at Till to see if something changed

I said that Till has some power over his outfit choices because he's the only one who personalizes them, or so it looks like. It's very much in Till's rebellious nature to vandalize his outfits and I think both the r2 outfit (the spray-painted t-shirt, the patch hiding his branding, the lack of shoes) and the scene we see in the top 3 video (with graffiti all over the room and paint all over him) are proof of that. He's always shown drawing and doodling, so i think it's a fair assumption that when we see that on his clothing, it's his handiwork.

And that... disappears in round 6. Whether we look at his outfit in the actual round or when he's entertaining segyeins, he's dressed in muted, dark clothing. Very put together for his previous standards, almost elegant with his delicate, silver accessories (thin chains and tasteful earrings)

Gone is the asymmetry and the rage. Till is mourning and so he dresses for a funeral... either for Mizi (who's gone and presumed(?) dead) or for himself (without Mizi, he has no reason to keep going. he entered alien stage and stayed in anakt for her). Whether he 1) chose his outfits before and let the aliens take over in his grief or 2) fought the aliens on previous outfits to personalize them and stopped after r5, i think in both cases his clothes show how much he has given up

and then we have round 7

First of all, the color is back. Acid green and white pants. The tech gear too, in place of delicate chains. The hair is slicked back, similar to the scene out of stage in r6, but it doesn't feel as tamed

and i apologize in advance for the frame i'm about to use to prove this point (only scene we see till full figure in r7) but

THE SPRAY PAINTING CAME BACK!! on the pants!! Personally I think both the red and the two stripes are Till's addition, you could argue that the blood isn't bc it's just the pants done like this but it looks handmade to me, splotchy. Very likely to be Till's hand.

So going back to my initial point: something has changed between r6 and r7. In r7, Till FIGHTS with everything he has. He doesn't let Luka speak over him, he tries his best. He falters, but he enters the stage with a spark, a determination that was notably absent in r6

I think it's significant that we get this in Mizi's pov

because Mizi RECOGNIZES Till. Not in the sense that she didn't know it was him, but in the sense that it's the Till she knew from anakt: wild, rebellious, hateful towards the system. He's raging and screaming, putting on a wild performance.

And Ivan's sacrifice is what gets him like this. It allowed him to live, of course, but if we read deeper there's also something else. In r6, it's the first time we see Ivan openly defying the segyeins. It's pretty obvious that he didn't have the love Mizi had for them and he disobeyed multiple times (running away with Till is the prime example), but he put on a façade all the time. I would say it's exactly what allows him to get away with so much: he's so well-behaved that no one suspects him. He has no leash because, in the segyeins' eyes, he never tried to escape (and he never will, bc just like Till will choose to go back to Mizi every time, Ivan will stay for Till as well).

The only times we see him rebelling is: 1) the scene on the rooftop when he was still in the slums; 2) in r6, when he defies all expectations and "cheats" so that Till wins

Ivan fell in love with Till after seeing how defiant he was. And Till regains his spark, his will to rebel, after Ivan's sacrifice, when he chooses to publicly go against the aliens for the first time since he was a child.

i've seen a lot of talk about how Ivan was Till's downfall: because Till cared much more than Ivan thought, because Luka used that moment with Ivan (and not Mizi) to bring him down. It's all true and very tragic, but I think it's really important to note something else too

Till was able to be himself again (even if just for the span of a single song) because of what Ivan did. Ivan's act of love wasn't wasted.

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet)

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: strawhat!reader, gender neutral reader, feelings and fluff (my faves🤞🏽), so much tension, no resolution of that tension… yet😏, lowkey “i hate everyone but you” trope, very brief mention of some canon typical violence, but no actual violence <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: lalalalala i love law😇 i actually wrote about twice as much as what’s here to begin with, but i felt like it was too long for one post, so i might upload it as a second part later if anyone wants that! as always ty for the love, and i hope you enjoy! (did i write this instead of finishing part 3 of my Zoro mini series? perchance. (that will be up soon though!))

Part 2

It’s a day like any other on board the Thousand Sunny- calm waters, music, occasional shouting, and just one abnormality. Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, is a guest on board the Strawhat Crew’s ship in the aftermath of Dressrosa. And despite their hospitality, he finds practically everything about life on board their ship to be draining…

Every potentially quiet moment is interrupted by the crew’s shenanigans.

For starters: the cook and swordsman argue over every little thing, and most of their arguments escalate into fights. The navigator is actually a petty thief or a con-artist at best, and her double, the sniper, takes it upon himself to cause dangerous explosions at least once a day. The musician is an incredibly loud pervert, though the shipwright is somehow even louder and more dramatic. The archeologist is alright- she’s quiet, but Law finds her constant observation more eery than comforting. And the captain is still somehow convinced that his doctor could be used as a source of “emergency food.” Then there’s you; the one who brings whatever you’re working on at the time up to the deck so you can work in the sunlight, wears your weapons like they’re accessories, who only takes breaks from working to visit with your nakama, and always offers a charming smile when you catch Law staring… which happens multiple times in the course of the day.

Law is often irritated, rigid, and cold- so different from your own optimistic and nonchalant demeanor. At breakfast, he doesn’t talk much. Just eats his meal and thanks Sanji before excusing himself to go pour over anatomy books from the ship’s library. He does so for hours, not once joining the Strawhat Crew on deck or even taking time to explore the ship on his own. Nami frequents the library, as well, but she’s taken to drawing maps in her room or on deck since their guests arrival. When night begins to settle overhead, he may return to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, before going right back to his work.

At first, one might have been inclined to think Law didn’t like y/n at all. They can often see his gaze trained on them form from the corner of their eye, but chooses to ignore it sometimes and address it with a smile others. He almost never speaks to them if possible, only offering a nod or a mumbled response to whatever they says. But, he goes out of his way to sit by them at mealtimes and to find himself in the same narrow hallways as them, so that their arms brush. Those are the moments he obsesses over in his mind while he dozes off from his textbooks- the feel of their skin against his, and their kind acknowledgements- always void of harsh judgment.

It’s not just the lack of cruelty in essentially eveything they do, to Law; it’s the presence of love. Love for their nakama, their work, people and places they barely know, even him. He doesn’t recall ever having met someone so full of love that goes beyond superficial kindness- because they can be sarcastic and moody at times- besides perhaps Corazon.

And to y/n, there’s just something about Law that peaks their interests. Maybe it’s the feeling of having someone new around, or something even more indescribable and foreign to the pirate.

Zoro is asleep in the men’s cabin tonight, so y/n is keeping watch. It’s the usual arrangement for the 2 night owls of the crew- when Zoro has truly exhausted his body, he sleeps below deck with the others, and y/n has no trouble staying up through the night.

They turn on some quiet music on their speaker, a must have for any music lover. For a while, they just watch the sea and sky. Nights at sea are like a blackout. But, there is no need for light with strong eyesight and the even stronger moon and starlight.

So it’s no surprise that they see, just out of the corner of their peripheral vision, the top of a white and black speckled hat bobbing up and down as it moves toward the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widen ever so slightly and their breath catches in their throat. The guest makes them feel silly, in a way, for not being able to discern their own feelings toward him, nor his toward them. They get so caught up in their thoughts about him that eventually they give up. Y/n shakes their head, mentally chastising themself for even being embarrassed or flustered in the first place. And with that confidence boost, they decide to go talk to him.

Next thing they know, y/n is standing before the kitchen door with no plan in mind for what they’re going to say to their crew’s ally. They open the door, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee brewing on the stove.

Y/n clears their throat to announce their presence, and Law whips his head around to see who it is. They offer a friendly smile and a little wave.

“Hi.” They speak softly, as if afraid to break the peace of the night.

A beat passes with no response from Law. Internally, he wishes they hadn’t walked in on him at this moment. The light from the overhead lamp catches in their eyes, and he feels entirely too seen. Not in the way he feels seen by someone like Robin, though, whose constant observation makes him feel uncomfortable; like one wrong move and he’ll have hell to pay for. No; y/n sees him and he’s scared that he might start spewing nonsense to avoid revealing his feelings. And suddenly his cheeks are on fire, and everything is quiet, and all he can focus on is the stars in their eyes that he tries so desperately to look away from.

They tilt their head, likely in concern, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to mumble, “Hey.”

“Cant sleep?” y/n questions, their starry eyes (as described by Law) flickering over the coffee pot on the counter and back to him.

Law shrugs, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes to hopefully hide his warm face. “I wasn’t trying to sleep.”

“Hm…” they hum in response, “Want to keep watch with me then? If you aren’t busy.”

He thinks they’re just being friendly, like always. When they first met, Law was confused. It made no sense for someone so mild mannered to have a bounty of well over 500 million (now almost double that amount in the time that’s passed), though he didn’t doubt that looks could be deceiving. But even in the midst of battle, of which the two had been in several together, they refused to take kill shots or anything of the sort. So he was still unsure of how they had earned such an impressive reward for their capture. Still, they clearly had a high regard for life, and he had come to learn that they truly were just that kind hearted, not to mention witty and generous. And judging by the “Sora: Warrior of The Sea” sticker he’d noticed on small a journal they carried, which was one amongst many; a bit of a nerd, too. All of these things and more had made Law secretly impartial to them. Or at least, those were the reasons he has listed in his mind to make sense of these feelings.

So he nodded, much to their surprise, and mumbled again “Sure.”

The curve of their smile opens up into a grin, and y/n leaves while fully expecting Law to follow (whenever his coffee was ready.) Which, he does.

[365idolmaster]

DAY 165

Today's character is Haruka Amami!! Haruka is a cheerful and sweet girl who loves to sing. She gets along with almost everybody very well and is often referred to as just a "normal girl". She is comically clumsy as well, known to trip at least once a day. She enjoys spending time with her family and friends and hates living alone.

FUN FACT: Haruka always has some sort of hair accessory on, they change depending on costumes and such, but it's usually two ribbons.

aw yay haruka!!! i love her so much,, i remember when i first watched the anime (which will be like 7 years ago soon whoa) my favorite character changed constantly and was literally everyone at 765 at some point but i left with the conclusion that haruka was my favorite. 7 years later i wouldn't consider myself a harukaP (as in who my #1 allstars girl is) but she's still a character i really adore. i have her on my (soon...8 years old?? also whoa) tomodachi life save. about the drawing, i wanted to do something special of course because haruka is practically the face of the idolmaster but i decided to not overthink it and do some more clean line practice. added more color burn and i'm not sure how i feel about how it turned out. regardless, i like this drawing :D

byebye! 🎀のヮの🎀

bonus harurun

[reco-obsessed]

do u have any super awesome reko hcs ?? id like to hear yr thoughts :3

*cracks knuckles*

most of my ideas on her are based on canon, so ive never considered them outlandish enough to call headcanons, but i guess technically pretty much all of my rants about her could be sorted as such, since they try to build on what we already know and extrapolate an analysis. i have too many to list. ill try to compile some here, though. longer ones are under the cut.

i moreso stole this headcanon then made it but i agree that reko cant cook for shit. she lives off takeout and stuff she burnt in the microwave, much to her protective older brother's dismay.

i believe reko was putting on her makeup and styling her hair every morning in chapter 2. again, i stole this one.

i think reko would be really good at video games

reko would be very good at ice skating

despite being good at drawing her eyeliner, i dont think she can draw very well on paper.

reko paints her nails sometimes (she likes the smell) but its always chipped somehow, even if she just painted them.

she doesnt have an extensive (if any) skin care routine (thats more her brothers thing) but she does have a hair care routine after almost frying off all her hair several times trying to bleach it herself. she only dyes her bangs now but she still takes good care of her hair (especially with the way she has to style it everyday).

reko is either out of the bathroom in 2 seconds or she takes an hour because she gets distracted and starts messing with her hair or makeup. it used to drive alice crazy when they both lived with their parents. not now alice, you can go shit in the bushes, reko is using her eyeliner as face paint.

reko tries not to do this when shes working on new songs, but shes the type of person who almost always listening to some kind of music. she loves finding new music and new subgenres.

shes not really a messy person but shes not very neat, either. she usually has trash slowly building up somewhere. nothing 15 minutes of panic cleaning cant fix, but its there.

i think reko made / makes a lot of her own punk clothes and accessories, and generally has frugal habits around her style. it started when she was a teen because her rebelliousness and delinquency led to her being perpetually grounded, so no allowance. shes awful at customer service so she couldnt really get an entry level job. her music wasnt really marketable and she probably didnt have her own band in her younger teens ( i think samurai yaiba was probably only started when she was about to or already graduated high school) so there wasnt much if any income from there. she may have done some odd jobs but they didnt pay much and she was intimidating to people, so it was hard to get gigs. all this led to her getting good at sewing, dying, bleaching and otherwise making her own clothes. probably owns a bunch of pins, studs, and zippers in bulk just to sew onto stuff. i think the same thing applies to her make up- she uses fancier water / sweat proof on stage, but off stage? dollar store eyeliner and foundation. she doesnt care about the risks, she goes through her make up too fast to bother with the fancy stuff.

reko has an impressive memory generally, but when she struggles with it, she makes little songs or rhymes to help her remember (she did this to sometimes help her speed memorize for tests in school. then, she had to whisper-sing it under her breath and swing her foot to the beat and itd be all you could hear in the test room, and shed either get in trouble or just be really embarrassed).

speaking of school, i dont think reko went to college or post secondary school; in ytts theres a whole thing about her hating school. but aside from that, the timing would be really tight. shes canonically 23, samurai yaiba was 2 1/2 years ago, so she wouldve been 20-21, and you graduate high school at 18. i cant say i know a lot about japanese college, but if it has the same status of degrees as in the US, it wouldnt really make sense for her to have gone to college- she was likely a drop out or never went in the first place.

i think reko has some burner account(s) where she dumps experimental music. its not always avant garde, but she likes playing with different genres. the problem is they keep escaping containment, even though shes embarrassed by them and thinks theyre all shit. no one can know about her breakcore album with 6 million views that she made while she was drunk and garage band crashed halfway through so theres weird chunks missing and distorted audio. no one. no one can know about the ska music made. god, not the ska.

reko has theater kid energy to me (both the yabusames do), but i doubt she was ever in any productions. her band/orchestra vibes are stronger and thats probably what she wouldve devoted all her time to instead. maybe, like, one musical, but she mightve not gotten the role she wanted and immediately quit. if she was, she drove everyone up a wall cause she was so hard to work with. shes a natural but she never shows up to any practices and is so easy to piss off, especially during the acting portions. skipping practice isnt a big deal to her because she can memorize things quickly, but it screws all the other actors up. she just isnt a team player (or rather, reko really wasnt a team player in highschool).

reko is a caffeine addict. she has overworking tendencies and i (used to) headcanon her as someone who abstains from alcohol / drugs / etc, so she resorts to coffee instead.

speaking of- i used to strongly believe reko wouldnt be the type to smoke or drink, specifically because i misinterpreted a line she said about her father ('hes not the best at staying true to his convictions, and gives into temptation') as being about addiction, when it was probably just supposed to be about her dad giving into the temptation of trying to make reko famous. looking back on it, thats closer to canon, and with the stress of being in the spotlight at such an early age and her self described 'delinquent phase' it makes a lot of sense to headcanon her as being a smoker or using other stimulants. i still think that you could possibly interpret her dad as having started doing those things at some point once they had surplus money from rekos early career, and i like the details that adds to her character; her trying to rebel from the industry not just out of a growing hate for it from being forced to do it, but also a wake up call for her father and hoping maybe hell stop if she refuses to be an idol anymore. her partially being so high strung later on because she never lets herself off the hook or resorts to substances that could calm her down.

i strongly believe reko has no idea how to actually be friends with people. like, yeah, when you talk to her during discussions she holds conversation pretty well and its not as if people dont want to be her friend or even that shes bad at it- its just that she has no experience. she doesnt know what shes doing. during pretty much the entirety of her developmental years, she was either getting forced into music stuff she didnt wanna do by her father or doing the music stuff she did wanna do. probably the only people she hung out with, if at all, were people she could hop the fence with to skip, and they werent really friends. alice even states himself that she had a habit of pushing people away and was alone.

in the same vein, alice may have dated more people than his far more charismatic sister. i refuse to drop this headcanon because its funny as hell. alice comes off strong, which you think would be a deterrent, but a lot of people are into that. its not as if reko doesnt, herself, but.... she has to deal with sheeping and girls thinking theyre just friends on top of that. moreover, i dont see reko as a flirty person- a lot of side content involves her getting flustered in some way. reko has an awkward flustered streak and it doesnt come out often but when it does it comes out strong, and its easy to find if you know where to look, so to speak. i mean, did you see the way she talked to nao on the 2f landing?

okay, i could keep going, but i ill spare you and stop here. thanks for letting me yap. or, rather, thanks for being my victim. if youve got stockholm syndrome, feel free to ask me for a part 2.

[spicy-apple-pie]

For your artists ask (if you’re still doing that) <3

7,8,9,11,15

agggh, you chose all the hard ones lol

7) Favourite works of all time excluding your own

This one is so hard because I have favourite artists, but not many favourite works. Plus, my favourite changes with every passing second but right now I would have to say this drawing of Damian with some birbies by @malenjoyer

I love this art style so much and HE'S SO CUTE

8) What do you like most about your own work

Gosh this is a hard one because I think as artists we're always thinking on whats wrong or how we can improve, but I would have to say the line art. It's my favourite part of the process and I like how much character I add to it, though I want to experiment with a more messier style.

9) What are you currently trying to improve

two things. My colour and my backgrounds. I struggle with picking out background colours that makes the foreground pop out or that just looks nice. And I think almost everyone can agree that backgrounds are hard and boring to draw. But it must be done.

11) Favourite comment you've ever received on your work

I have no idea. I love and cherish every comment on my work. Sometimes I just look through them when I'm feeling down. But my favourite right now is on my comic about Damian riding Batcow. They were basically info dumping about how riding cows isn't actually that great but I put Damian in the best spot to sit when riding. I felt so smart for that, even though I just guessed where someone would sit on a cow.

15) Biggest Art Pet Peeve

I don't have a lot of art pet peeves, more like artist pet peeves. Like those people that make those speed paint videos with the clip of markiplier going "jingle jingle" and slime videos to be like "ooooh you don't have the attention span to watch this speedpaint until the end oooooh you hate artists". I'm being hyperbolic, but I still scroll to spite them lol. But for an actual ART pet peeve, I don't like it when a character has soooo many accessories. tbf that's my personal taste, I still find the art lovely and I still admire those who put so many accessories on characters, if that makes sense??? Like that one post about the art teacher who gave a critique about a girls art telling her to make the teacher hate it? Idk I'm writing this past my bedtime so my brain is a little like mush right know. I also hate people bashing art styles. like the "calarts style" (don't get me started) or any other popular trends. Like dude, ever heard of art eras? Art goes through trends.

Thanks so much for the ask!! Hopefully this wasn't too rambley, I just like talking about stuff lol

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Hello salad 🫶 Can I please get some little Taub or Park headcanons please? My underrated kings 🙏

I'll do both!

Taub

Is a middle regressor with an age range of 12 to around 16.

In his ✨💀emo phase💀✨ almost all the time when he's regressed. If he has a say in what he's wearing than it's all black with band T-shirts, skull accessories, too many bracelets, and beanies. He might even get into dark eye makeup if he's feeling fancy that day.

His teenager brain really hates being bald. Almost never without a hat.

Actually becomes really good at using liquid eyeliner when he's regressed, and that skill doesn't transfer to when he's big somehow.

Very "stereotypical 80's movie teen". Kind of has an apathetic "ugh, whatever" attitude about most things and doesn't like being told what to do, lots of demand avoidance.

He is willing to help caregivers out with babysitting though. He pretends he doesn't care but he does and everyone knows it.

"Taub, turn the music on your iPod down, you'll hurt your ears!" - Wilson, yelling

"Yeah whatever, Mom!" - Taub, yelling back (he turns it down secretly)

Stops liking coffee and switches to sugary energy drinks for his caffeine intake instead. He also consumes much more caffeine while regressed if no one stops him.

Most of his emotional woes are being chronically unhappy with his life choices and having a simultaneous quarter and mid-life crisis at the same time.

Touchy about his appearance, as all self-conscious teens.

Likes playing Mario and Legend of Zelda games.

Doesn't have stuffed animals, but he does have a lot of game/band keychains.

Owns a few fidgets like a fidget cube and a Rubik's cube, and has a little collection of magnets to mess with.

Journals (He insists it is not a diary)

-

Park

Little age anywhere from 2-8. She's usually all the way on one end or the other, but occasionally goes in-between.

Didn't know what the heck was going on with her when she first regressed starting in med-school because of the stress, and of course, being a med-student, she jumped to the worst possible conclusion and thought she had a brain tumour or something.

She just nervously sat on that information until her psych class discussed age regression, and then just went "Oh."

Regresses almost entirely involuntarily and due to stress or fear (she also regressed that one time she was on acid, only House really picked up on it). It doesn't happen very often, usually when she's sleep deprived and otherwise upset.

Has a box of the bare-minimum in the way of little gear. A pacifier that's light blue, a colouring book with some crayons, a white bear with a pink bow around its neck, and a little whiteboard list of self-care things so she remembers to actually do them.

Refers to her caregivers very respectfully, using Mr. and Mrs. for everything, or in the case of her coworkers, Doctor [name]. She will not stop calling them that even though they've said she doesn't have to.

Asks people bluntly if they can shut up so she can read her picture books.

The kind of kid where if you sit them down at those restaurants with the paper on the tables for colouring she'll do her best to make a masterpiece and impress the workers.

Will ask you why you look so ugly. She's not being mean, she genuinely wants to know. Absolutely no filter.

Rambles about her current interests and will just keep going if you don't stop her.

Her favourite caregiver is Cuddy, she likes to give her the pictures she draws.

Watches nature documentaries about the ocean and unironically watches the Telletubbies. She loves how creepy they look.

[greatwyrmgold]

Reading the Amazon Lily arc gave me some thoughts about how One Piece handles women.

I'll start with something positive: The Kuja tribe proves that Eiichiro Oda can draw women who aren't either fat hags or supermodels with I-cups and waists too thin for their intestines. The background characters show almost as much variety in visual design as One Piece's male characters.

On the other hand, this kinda draws attention to the fact that most of One Piece's female characters (especially the named ones) are supermodels with different wigs and sometimes fish tails, while most of the rest are oval-shaped and often have jokes made about how ugly and undesirable they are. (Poor Kokoro.) And to be clear, Oda still defaults to the supermodel shape for lots of the Kuja.

While I'm talking about character design, I'm not a fan of the Kuja tribe's clothes. Most of them wear as little clothing as possible, either a bikini with accessories or unusually skimpy variations on other outfits, like that one Kuja pirate who wears a jacket that leaves her midriff and the middle of her chest bare.

Also, they give Luffy clothes after he arrives, and they're flowery and frilly. Few of the Kuja wear floral clothes and IIRC none have frilly ones; the flowers and frills are just added because they're stereotypically girly, and Oda thought it would be funny to put Luffy in emasculating clothes.

The scene where Luffy accidentally smashes into Boa Hancock's bath was...I'd ask why it had to be her bath and not Hancock doing literally anything else, but I think we know the reason.

Not sure how to feel about Luffy beating up the warrior-women tribe's best warriors without significant effort, even though they're proficient with Haki and he thinks it's that ice sport.* On one hand, it feels awfully close to that stupid trope where women are treated as automatically weaker than men.

On the other hand, the man in question is Monkey D. Luffy, who has fought multiple Warlords of the Sea and usually come out ahead. Also, the Kuja tribe's best warrior, Boa Hancock, doesn't actually fight him. If that status doesn't just come from the Devil Fruit that can't affect Luffy's aroace ass (or any other aroace part of him), maybe a fight between them would have been more even.

*This joke was not made in the actual manga. It should have been, though.

Speaking of Boa Hancock and Luffy, though...the absolute worst part of Kuja Tribe lore is fucking Love Sickness. Apparently some Kuja women suffer literal lovesickness when they fall in love with a guy. It's fatal, unless they leave the island to be with the man they love. Gross.

If Boa Hancock had fallen in love with Luffy after he beat up his sisters, that would have been dumb but tolerable. But making it an actual physiological ailment that's common among the Kuja when they meet men...that feels way too close to saying women need a man to be healthy. I mean, that is literally true for these women who live among other women. And it's apparently a leading cause of death among their empresses. I hate it. Love Sickness should have been damned to editorial hell.

Revealing that the Boa sisters used to be slaves wasn't a big problem. But having that revealed a few chapters apart from Robin getting enslaved on the island she landed on (long story), when that didn't happen to any of the other Straw Hats, when Robin is one of only two women in the Straw Hats...petty, but I mostly want to complain about Robin getting enslaved. I don't think they even put seastone cuffs on her. Why is she just accepting this.

The general tropes about a land of woman being fascinated by the first man they see are a bit irksome, but on reflection, I think they only bother me because of all the other stuff. The Kuja tribe's reactions are mostly expressions of ignorance rather than innately feminine attributes, as expressed in the running gag where they keep assuming that the weird Luffy things Luffy does are what all men must be like. So mark that as another positive.

[honeybewrites]

OC Intro: Fres

Since I introduced 703 last week, I figured I would introduce her ex-partner this week!! This has also been sitting in my drafts for an insanely lone amount of time...

Quick note, I have the drawing skills of a snake, so I have used picrew to create the closest picture of the beautiful Fres as possible. If you are interested, I used this one.

Once again, the picture provided is of Fres in their namuh form, not their natural Tanimoriem form, which is why they look human.

With that out of the way, let's meet another one of the Echoes of War Chronicles stars, Mx Fres!

Name: Fres

Mors Asset Number: 702

Age: twenty-three

Birthdate: [Redacted]

Pronouns: They/Them

Species: Dragon, Tanimoriem (Genetic enhancements and experiments have occurred to alter this individual's biology)

Physical Description: Fres has biracial skin, leaning on the lighter side. Vitiligo covers their entire body and a beauty mark sits under their left eye. Coinciding scars cross over the same cheek, just touching their full lips. They have matte gold or sandy textured hair, often left natural or in braids. Their eyes are bright sunny gold, like a burning sun. Various other scars cover their body from other missions and punishments from the Mors. Fres has a tattoo, an old Tanimoriem tribe insignia, on the right right side of their chest. They are short for their species, coming in around 5'10 (or 177 cm). Even slender and lean, they still have a considerable amount of muscle and are very fit.

In their natural Tanimoriem form, Fres' skin color and vitiligo transfer into scales. Their hair remains the same, with short, triple set horns the same color as their scales/skin popping through. Matte gold small spikes run down their back, all the way to the tip of their tail. Triple style spikes end the tail, also matte gold. Their wings are very large, even for the species, coming in at an impressive 30'1 (or 9.17 m) wingspan. The arms of the wings are the same color as their scales/skin, while the membrane and protective scales are matte gold.

Skills/Abilities: elemental, multiple forms of combat, infiltration, negotiation, technically savvy, wilderness survival

Greatest Fear: the Mors

Personality Type: ENFP-A

Love Language: acts of service

Typical Outfit: Out on missions, a modified Mors suit is generally their go to, but outside of that, Fres is very stylish, having lots of outfits, accessories, and lots of pink things.

Method of Manipulation: gaslighting/silver tongue

Part of Project Viall, Fres has been with the Mors for most of their life. They were trained side by side with 703, their best friend. It's the only life they'd every known, but as they were exposed to more of the Realms, they began to resent it. They couldn't accept this life, this pain. So they came up with a plan to escape, and take 703 with them. There was no point in running away if 703 wouldn't come. The plan failed horribly, ending with the two getting separated. Fres was finally free from the Mors, but 703 was not with them. Fres was convinced 703 had chosen the Mors over them and a deep resentment and hatred began to build. The two were now on opposite sides of the war, vicious enemies.

Relationships

Master Gerd: As their main handler, Fres hated Master Gerd the most. Very controlling and abusive, they couldn't stand him. He was responsible for their training, so there was really no escaping him. Fres would like to see his head on a pike or his body dangling from the rafters.

Healer Asurr: As their creator, Fres interacted with Healer Asurr often. Constantly put through tests and experiments to track and improve their abilities. Fres hates them, but not nearly as much as Master Gerd. They would be almost as happy to see Healer Asurr's body broken.

Dana Hueland: One of the first people Fres met outside of the Mors, Dana introduced them to Oraniz. Since then, Dana and Fres have worked closely together. The older, feisty woman being more than happy to help Fres take down the Mors and extract revenge. Fres sees her as family, and the feeling is mutual.

703: Fres' partner and best friend since birth, the two were inseparable. They loved her with everything and as long as they were together, Fres knew everything would be alright. But when Fres ran from the Mors, freed in their escape attempt, 703 stayed behind in the end. Fres hated her for it. For choosing the Mors over them, and Fres vowed never to forgive her for it.

I hope that some of you enjoyed it, I know I love creating these little profiles!

If anyone wants to be added/subtracted from the tag list, you can comment or DM me!

General Tag: @orions-quill @fractured-shield and @leahnardo-da-veggie

EoWC Tag: N/A

LotA Tag: N/A

[poetfilm]

headcanons for amy and laurie but these got long so it's going under the cut. personals and non-mutuals, please leave me and my posts alone.

both of them:

they share most things, including but not limited to clothes, perfume, shampoo and soap, skincare products, and the last brain cell. one can only imagine how much more annoying jo's life gets when they start dating. they often show up to wherever jo is at the most inconvenient times without announcing themselves first and proceed to go on two separate infodumping tangents.

diverging from canon: they didn't get married as quickly as they did in the book/movies. (just in modern/main verse because i think it's way less plausible.) technically became "official" when they were in paris (would have been a little while after beth passed away), but they moved in together pretty soon after returning home to concord.

eventually married during a little impromptu vegas trip (which mostly occurred because they were bored one day, so they just bought plane tickets). they didn't tell anyone till they got back (safe to assume everyone was a little bit annoyed by this) but they had a nice little ceremony later on with jo as best man, meg as maid of honor, daisy as flower girl, demi as ring bearer, and john as a secondary groomsman / backup best man because they didn't want him to be left out.

amy:

reacts very dramatically whenever someone (usually jo, sometimes laurie when he's being a little shit) uses foul language.

doesn't really drink alcohol unless there's a ton of sugar in it. basically only likes spiked juice. extremely lightweight, will fall asleep after 1.5 beverages.

likes to embroider or decorate most of her clothes. almost everything she wears regularly has some little flowers, sequins, or fabric paint. also knits and crochets, mostly accessories. sometimes sweaters, but she's not quite as skilled at bigger projects.

kind of dabbles in every medium. loves to make things from clay and paper, but most skilled in drawing and painting. everyone gets a custom scrapbook for christmas and a painting or sculpture for their birthday.

her childhood home is quite literally covered in her artwork. it starts off relatively small scale, but as you get further into the house, there's just more and more of them. complete chaos. her side of the bedroom (she shares with beth) just looks like a craft store exploded.

loves to greet people with a kiss on both cheeks ("like the french and italians" she claims). gets very upset if people don't give her a cheek kiss in return and acts like they've scorned her terribly.

laurie:

even more of an attention-seeking drama queen than amy. it's so serious.

"he should have been at the club." well, actually he was at the club and he dances like a peanuts character.

didn't know how to use a can opener until he was like 15.

steals flowers from other people's gardens.

he's renamed every single one of the march family cats. it's never a good name but he thinks they're all really clever. please don't ask what the names are because there were at least 5 when he got here and they keep multiplying.

a lot of his clothes are embroidered too because sometimes amy gets bored and needs a project and there's no point in trying to stop her.

had long hair for a bit during his teen years, around the same time when jo first cut their hair short, claims that he was "compensating for the tragic loss". everyone told him how much they hated it pretty regularly, especially his grandpa.

[semper-legens]

50. The Last Confession of Thomas Hawkins, by Antonia Hodgson

Owned: No, library Page count: 371 My summary: Thomas Hawkins is in trouble. He’s in a cart, on his way to Tyburn to hang for murder. As he’s paraded through the streets to the jeering of the crowd, he’s hoping for a royal pardon. Days earlier, he was summoned to the chambers of the Queen to perform a job for her. A job that became so much more complicated when his hated neighbour was murdered - and the prime suspect was Tom himself. But with only moments remaining before that noose tightens around his neck, Tom begins to suspect that he’s not going to get out of this one... My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

Back to this series! And I'm still loving it. There's just something about the Georgian setting that I absolutely adore. I know the 18th and the 19th century are not actually that far removed, but after the slew of historical novels set in the late Victorian period, seeing literally anything else feels like a breath of fresh air. Which is helped by how well-researched the setting was! I didn't come across anything that jibed with my historical knowledge (though 18th century England is not my forte) and it's clear that the author is a huge nerd for the 18th century. She includes a bibliography and some historical notes detailing the real people who show up in this novel, and the real inspirations she was drawing from in order to create this narrative. And it's very welcome, because I am enamoured with this series.

Oh, Thomas Hawkins. You really are the fucked up little man of my heart. After his release from the notorious Marshalsea, Tom moved with Kitty to Sam Fleet's old shop, selling certain literature to interested (and discreet) gentlemen. But he's bored. He longs for adventure, and gets it when he accepts a deal from James Fleet to do some work for him. Which leads him to an audience with the Queen. Yeah, Tom's in over his head, and it's worse news yet - his neighbour, who he was seen very publicly threatening, has been murdered. And he's the most likely suspect. Tom has to work fast to both find a solution to the Queen's problems and his own before he's charged with murder. This is a character at his best when he's most desperate, and we definitely see him pushed to the edge here. I like that Tom has realistic reactions to things - he's not Superman, when he gets chained to a wall by his wrists he's in pain, he makes bad choices and bad judgement calls, he gets himself into more trouble than he can talk his way out of. He's a very full, very flawed person, and that's interesting! I do have to criticise, though, that Kitty feels more of an accessory for Tom than a character in her own right, though Tom's attempts to shield her from trouble and his paternalistic attitude are shown as flaws of his character, so the narrative is at least addressing it.

The actual plot here takes two strands - one, court intrigue as the King's mistress is having some problems with her husband demanding money, and two, the aforementioned murder. Tom has to find a solution to the first and solve the second before too long, because it's only the Queen's favour that's keeping him alive. Obviously, the stakes are high, and Tom gets increasingly frantic as time goes on. His enemies keep piling up, and his friends are few. And the mystery itself is intriguing. The house was locked, so who could have killed the neighbour? There were four people in the house - a maid, his son, his daughter, and his apprentice, all of whom had good motivation. But there's also a hidden passage between Tom's home and the neighbour's, which Tom is desperate not to let anyone find out. Everyone is a suspect, but there are more twists and turns than meets the eye in this mystery. I won't spoil it, but it kept me guessing straight up to the end. By contrast, the courtly plot is a lot simpler, and mostly consists of Tom being put in Situations by fate itself, almost. Not that this isn't just as fun to read. Poor guy.

Look, I'm just going to admit it. I have a morbid fascination with the history of executions - I'm English, my country hasn't had the death penalty for as long as I've been alive, and I am deeply interested both with how such a thing worked historically and attitudes around it today. This book revolves around Tom being hanged for murder. He's on his way to the gallows in the book's opening, and each part begins with a new stage of his journey, as he begins to panic that he won't be reprieved after all. And he isn't. Only through Kitty bribing the hangman was he saved - he was hanged until unconscious, but cut down before he could die. The slow march to the gallows, and Tom's changing mood throughout, makes for grippingly tense reading. It's a foregone conclusion that he will be convicted of murder, but will he live to tell the tale? Adding to that is the fact that the account we are reading was written by Tom in the condemned cell just before his execution, which then picks up after he survives. It's a clever narrative device that really adds to the experience. The stages in bringing Tom to the gallows, apparently authentic, are interesting - the pageantry on display as Tom is paraded through the streets, chained in a cart, and ritualistically offered wine before finally arriving at Tyburn, really shows that the point of such a penalty was to display those convicted of crimes moreso than actual punishment. It's interesting, if terrible.

Next up, still in the realm of history, and the story of a reviled king.

[makerscockandballs]

For the oc questionnaire thing, I'd like to know #1, #3 (preferably physical traits), #31 and #43 for all of your guys if you have the time!

oooh this is gonna be a long one :D (related to this ask meme)

1: What is their go-to comfort food?

Maison Surana: Orlesian chocolate truffles. Tried them once at a banquet he was performing at and got obsessed. You could bribe him with them.

Orev Hawke: Hearty, heavy Fereldan stew like they used to make in Lothering. It’s just potato and turnip and whatever veggies are in season, doesn’t even taste like much but keeps you warm and fed.

Thelrael Lavellan: Sweets of any kind, but most of all a certain Dalish dessert made primarily from wild honey & roasted fruit.

Magnolia Trevelyan: Tomato soup but with tons of hot pepper powder – a classic she’s used to from the Circle, but the spice is her own twist to make it more interesting. Overall, she loves spicy & heavily seasoned cooking, the more the better even if it makes her eyes water. If habanero potato chips were a thing in Thedas she’d eat three bags a day.

3: What is something they really like about themselves and what is something you really like about them? (Physical Traits)

Maison: He doesn’t care too much about his appearance aside from looking neat and presentable but takes some joy in his teeth being pointier than normal. Part of it is just how they always looked, part of it is Warden Weirdness. I love his facial scars, both the characterization aspect (refuses to cover them up yet hates seeing them in the mirror) and from a “looks badass” aspect.

Orev: He really likes his hair and tries out all kinds of styles with it once he has the time and money. And honestly I agree, it’s also my favourite thing about him to draw :D

Thelrael: He really, really likes his legs, all his outfits are built around making his legs stand out (haha get it. stand out). I really like his profile, it’s overall flat and a bit round — a bit of a babyface that absolutely works for him and makes him look mischievous.

Magnolia: She really likes her overall build, especially her muscular arms. Worked lots and carried around lots of things when she was tranquil which sucked, but at least now it helps her defend herself. Josephine’s obvious glances are a big plus too. I really like her eyes, they’re big and a very dark deep brown.

31: What would make them blush?

Maison: Compliments and reassuring words about him as a person. He holds himself to impossibly high standards and is never satisfied, but hearing that others think positively about him means so much.

Orev: Coming from the right person, almost everything. Friend telling him they care about him or thanking him? Red. Anders kissing him or even just giving him the smallest compliment? Bright fucking red. Meanwhile anyone outside his close social circle could blatantly and passionately flirt with him and get nothing more than a friendly smile or some playful flirting back. All or nothing babe

Thelrael: It takes *a lot* to get this bastard flustered. A lot. He also has no sense of shame. Whoever tries to make him blush ends up being the actually flustered one within minutes. Nobody has figured out a way to do it yet, but Dorian is certainly trying.

Magnolia: Getting nice personal gifts, especially accessories and flowers. Makes her feel special and courted like a princess. She’s not used to having such nice things and wears them with pride. Getting compliments about how that new hairpin or earring fits her is the cherry on top.

43: And what would you say to comfort them?

Maison: You cannot save everyone, but what matters is that you tried. You helped more people by trying and sometimes failing than you would have through inaction. Let yourself off the hook.

Orev: It’s not your fault. Kirkwall was a sinking ship, and one man alone cannot plug all its leaks no matter how hard he tries. Drowning along with it would not have helped anyone.

Thelrael: It’s okay to be angry. But it is still real, even if the gods were not gods at all, it all still mattered. Every celebration, every story, every ritual still brought your people together.

Magnolia: You’re safe now, and not alone anymore. Nothing can force you back into tranquility or hiding. It’s okay to finally let your guard down and breathe.

[sweetnsour1]

12:18

Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader

Happy Halloween🖤

“Y/n…I don’t think he’s gonna’ pop out of the fridge.” You blinked away the heavy glare from your face, wondering how long you had been making the beer sweat as you reached for a cold one.

“Hmm…no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Her words were half sung, carrying the unmistakable melody of you’re-a-fucking-liar.

You stayed silent, feeling relieved when Mina dropped it. She was more interested in spinning around the kitchen in search of a bottle opener. You leaned back, careful to not dent the papier-mâché gauntlets you were sporting. The counter would’ve dug into the small of your back if the thick belt of your costume were placed any lower. You looked down the orange and black covering your body.

“Will you stop makin’ faces? Although….it does kinda complete the look.” You took a sip of your beer in reply, laughing when she finally realized they were twist off caps.

“This was such a dumb idea.”

“Hey! It was my super cute idea. Everyone else is having fun wearing each other’s OG hero costumes.” You felt a pull on your mask, turning to glare at the pink finger that had flicked the explosive accessories attached to them. “You’re just mad you had to dress as him.” She booped your nose, preemptively transitioning your glare to a laugh.

“Ugh, sorry. This costume just turns me into such an asshole.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s true for Bakugou too.”

“Nah, he’s still an asshole eight costumes later.”

“You keepin’ track, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. It came up when I had to search for pics of this stupid thing.”

“I see. So how many hours did you spend staring at pictures of the man you allegedly hate?”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible.” You waited for your laughter to stop before taking another long drink. “I don’t hate Bakugou. I just said he’s an asshole.”

“I think you like him.” Mina danced out of the way, dodging most of the beer you accidentally sprayed her way.

“The fuck? That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Man, you really do sound just like him.” She was faster this time as she leapt out of your gauntlets reach.

“You are such a brat…raccoon eyes.” You stuck out your tongue, but followed her out of the kitchen.

She didn’t understand. Mina was lucky, she’d gotten Red Riot in the blind draw. She had just dug through Kirishima’s closet and was now wearing most of his original costume. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead asking Dynamight for a fucking favor. Although, you had regretted the time you’d spent looking at stupid fan pages after work, trying to find any content showing his high school hero work. The quantity hadn’t really been an issue, but the quality was…unexpected?

You hadn’t meant to land on so many sites thirsting after the man that pissed you off every day. You hadn’t even known until a couple weeks ago, how many people would kill to be in the Bakugou proximity you were forced into daily. They would love to be shouldered away from the coffee pot as he stomped through the break room, lecturing you about being a sleep deprived idiot. They’d find a deeper reason for why he was such a condescending prick when you forgot to put something in your report…or why he even felt the need to check your reports in the fucking first place. He wasn’t even your superior…much less your boss. They would have spent the last week wondering what it would be like to kiss him every time his lips parted into that annoying shitty smirk of his. But you…you’d never think those things.

You drained your beer, almost knocking yourself in the face with your costume when you swiped the back of your hand across your lips. You wouldn’t let yourself think those things. That’d be too…you grabbed another drink from the bucket of ice on the table. Mina was so wrong, and you knew exactly how to prove it.

“Hey, so that American guy we borrowed got Deku in the draw right?” You scanned the room, quickly spotting the bright green ears.

“Yea, but he-“ She smiled when she caught onto your line of sight. “Why? You think he looks good in it?” You rolled your eyes, passing her your drink.

“I don’t know if anyone looks good in a bright green rabbit onesie, but I’ll go check.”

You tried not to get distracted while you crossed the room, but Mina’s party idea had been really fucking cute. It was fun seeing everyone dressed as everyone. You only nodded to anyone trying to catch your attention. You were on a mission. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking of the report you’d submitted today. The one Bakugou hadn’t read because he had left early. It was stupid. You were angry every time he showed up in your doorway with a report he hadn’t been given. And yet, you were even angrier today when he hadn’t. Maybe those fans online would know…have a headcanon. You frowned, stomping the rest of the way to the Deku two heads taller than you were.

The American hero looked like he might’ve gotten carried away with the thickness of the boots or something. You didn’t remember him being so fucking tall. You noticed his mask was down as the beer fell back to his side. Perfect…just go for it. It was a party, right? You tapped the green back of the costume, feeling a twinge of jealousy at how much more soft and comfortable it seemed compared to yours. When he turned, you grabbed the front, tugging him down to meet your lips. Take that, Mina. Someone who liked Bakugou wouldn’t have done that. You squirmed when a heavy hand on the back of your head kept you from pulling away. You finally broke free from him.

“The fuck are you-“ Red eyes silenced you. Your mouth was left open and useless as he skirted his gaze down and up your body.

“Tryna get a job as my sidekick?” Your mouth snapped shut. You knew you probably did look just like him as you glared and fucking spun on your heel, ready to stomp away. He was just such-

You couldn’t move further. He had a hold of your arm above the gauntlet. You waited to be yanked backwards for an explanation, but he shifted himself around instead, releasing your arm when he stood in front of you.

“Calm down, Dynamight.”

“It’s actually Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.” You tried to keep snarling, but it was too hard not to laugh halfway through the name. There’s no way you’d have been able to keep glaring anyway…not when he was smiling at you like that.

“Sorry, a nerd should know better.” He swatted at his green ears, making you…giggle? You caught pink and red movement across the room. This really wasn’t the show you’d expected to give Mina. He grabbed at your cheeks, pulling your gaze back to meet his. “Ya look good.” You swatted his hands away as soon as your brain stopped being so sluggish.

“I always look good.”

“Yea…you do.” You were almost too distracted by the darkening of his eyes to notice his arm snake around your waist. You stumbled into his chest when he pulled you, instinctively moving your hands up to brace the impact. “So what am I gonna have to do to get another kiss?” You were halfway ready to explain your mistake when you felt it. The not so steady beating beneath your fingertips. He was-

You looked back into red, confirming your suspicion. For once, he wasn’t making things difficult. He made it easy. Easy to see the way his eyes darted down to your mouth before staying firmly focused on your gaze. Easy to feel the way he tightened his grip. Easy to hear the way his voice softened around your name when you didn’t answer. He was nervous. You smiled, but didn’t move any closer. Fuck it.

“Ya just gotta ask, ya fuckin’ nerd.”

a/n obviously Katsuki lost a bet with the bakusquad that got him stuffed into a rabbit

This story was inspired by an ask sent in by the lovely @cheezitwh0re

Masterlist

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute. 

Why does that word even exist? 

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 

“You don’t have a driver?” 

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 

Fuck. 

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 

“Huh?” 

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 

And you were certain it all sucked after that. 

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 

There wasn’t much to hate about him.  

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 

Trying to accept it. 

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 

“Huh?” 

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 

Nice save. 

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 

“All?” 

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 

“Our?” 

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 

You found your opinion impeding his words.  

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 

It wasn’t your place. 

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 

You swallowed. 

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 

“Go on.” 

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  

Especially with him. 

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 

Your eyes widened in horror. 

The Black Card. 

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 

It seemed he did this when he got serious. 

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 

Why are you so afraid of me? 

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night. 

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home. 

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 

And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 

It’s only been a day. 

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman. 

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 

Weird. 

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 

You nearly spat your drink. 

“What?” 

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 

Men. 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 

It was quite interesting. 

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 

“Mother?”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera​ @laurynne5​ @dreamsindreamss​ @thequeen-kat​ @awsome-small-k​ @wrecklesssly​ @kweenhu​ @jalexad​ @staerify​ @bangforever​ @dyriddle​ @aianloveseven​ @waves-and-woods​ @hoefortaeshands​ @veronawrites​ @nightapple4jk​ @wataemelonz​ @aomi-nabi​

[hyperfixation-brainrot]

Miscellaneous DF headcannons :)

Okay, so

Eugene:

• A theater kid.

• Lies about his height. He is shorter than MC, canon is wrong.

• Tends to overwork himself when he's making music. Like, "I've just composed a hit song but haven't eaten in about 2 days-"

Harry:

• Uses a lot of tone indicators, and you'll probably need to do so too. If he thinks you're unhappy with him he'll panic.

• He downplays his own issues because he's worried about being a burden. It's very concerning.

• You are normally the one arranging days out. He doesn't want to put you on the spot or make you feel guilty, so he doesn't often invite you placed unless you are very obviously hinting that you want to go somewhere.

Ethan:

• I may be projecting but he is very much autism-coded. I'm autistic myself, so I may be biased, but still.

Continuing from my previous point, he's semiverbal, so he can speak, just prefers not to and finds it kinda difficulti sometimes. It's probably why he nods so much.

He comes across as intimidating and angry but he's actually just very shy. He's trying to figure out how to tell someone that he likes their outfit and they think he's about to beat them up.

A really good hugger.

Zion:

He says in his DM's that we're the first people he's told about his scars, but I sort of disagree. Personally, I think that we're the first people he's told the truth to. Other people have asked, and he's probably told them that he got in a fight with a gang of land-sharks and won.

Pretty possessive. Not as much as Lawrence, but he will give your male friends a death stare whenever you aren't looking at him.

His ideal date would be anything with dogs involved.

Lawrence:

He doesn't deserve headcannons. Joking, I just don't have many for him.

He talks to his plants. He wasn't allowed pets, or anything that would distract him from his studies, so plants were the only thing that his parents deemed sufficiently educational.

Surprisingly empathetic towards non-human objects, if you couldn't tell from the plant thing. It's kind of odd, because he'll treat a random leaf like a small child. Especially after all he's done.

He likes it when you're clingy and needy, because it makes him feel loved. You practically hang off of him when he feels down. It cheers him up.

Scarlett:

She was one of the "popular girls" before the apocalypse. She had a group of friends that she'd gossip with. None of them made it, and at the time that we meet her, she's in the anger stage of grief, which she takes out on us.

She doesn't actually love Zion, she's just convinced herself she does. She does it as a distraction and coping mechanism.

She craves validation, and when told she's in the wrong for her behaviour towards us, she blames us for "turning people against her" and refuses to acknowledge that she's in the wrong.

Jay

He's aro-ace. He doesn't tell you this though, because he hates you.

Very, very stubborn. He refuses to give you a single chance, because he said he didn't want you around when you first met and he's not backing down.

He and Scarlett are cousins, and he acts like this makes him popular. It doesn't.

Sue:

She loves true crime and mystery novels. It's why she suspected Lawrence to begin with.

She wore braces as a kid, and now she has perfectly straight teeth.

Scarily good at drawing straight lines without a ruler.

Judy:

Everyone likes her. She radiates positive energy.

Really enthusiastic about almost everything. She doesn't feel neutral about anything, her default state is "this makes me so happy I may die".

Really good at doing everyone's hair except her own, so she keeps it short and wears lots of hair accessories to make up for it.

Haliey:

Her coat is a comfort item.

Got teased a lot in school, took it to heart. She spent the majority of her day hiding out in the school bathrooms before the apocalypse.

Knew Scarlett before the apocalypse. Scarlett kind of took her under her wing, which is why Hailey's nice to her even though she's a brat to us.

[dreadreflection-if]

Discovery. Temptation. Sin.

He leads others down a familiar path of vice…

…wishing to forget the knowledge forced upon her long ago.

Basics:

Name: Uriel

Age: ???

Gender: NB (genderfluid)

Height: 5′10″

Orientation: Omnisexual

Faith: [redacted]

Alignment: [redacted]

Background:

Uriel loves to be a mystery. Each person she meets is told a different lie about her past - sometimes she is born in the glamorous city of Levkarest, sometimes in the tragically plague-stricken Pont-a-Museau. He can be a priest keen on converting others to the Church of Ezra, or the victim of a terrible crime searching for a new home. He is kind and funny, or aloof and haughty.

Uriel is whatever he needs to be at that moment to get what he desires.

She knows she has no actual history to share: it was ripped from her mind many years ago, destroying any plans she had for the future. All she has left to focus on is the present - and she intends to enjoy it to the fullest. That is why she molds herself into different personas, and why he can freely make promises he has no intention of keeping. Focused on his own enjoyment, he leads others down a road of temptation - uncaring if they get lost along the way.

Uriel never explains the motive behind her actions. It is an enigma, just like everything else about her. Some have tried to speculate, but he knows they will never guess. They did not see what he saw, all those years ago.

They did not see what lurks beyond the borders of the Mists.

Characteristics:

Uriel is full of confidence and charisma, able to easily deceive others with his performances. He can successfully act as anyone, using his insight to tailor himself to his current partner’s preferences. She can be surprisingly wise, but rarely shows this side of her to others. She has never been interested much in intelligent conversation - any talks of books or writing bore her. Uriel’s main goal at all times is to have fun. He never worries about the morality or consequences of his actions, and dislikes feeling tied down. She hates anyone who would forcibly try to change her - she has already been put through that once.

Personality Trait: I enjoy being mysterious, and lie about anything I can.

Personality Trait: I have a habit of abandoning things when they are no longer interesting to me.

Ideal: Freedom. The future does not matter, so everyone should live how they want in the present.

Bond: [redacted]

Flaw: It does not matter to me what happens because of my actions.

Appearance:

Uriel has a beauty that almost seems unreal - though she denies using any magic to enhance it. She has pale ivory skin and her upturned eyes are an unusual pink. He has long lashes, and a beauty mark sits below his bright red lips. Her hair is maroon and frames her face: female Uriel keeps it long, down to her back; male Uriel keeps it short, at his ears. He wears clothing meant to draw the eye, and is always adorned with expensive accessories. Though she wears many bright colors, the ones she seems to favor are pink and red.

Specific content warnings for Uriel’s route include: amnesia, body horror, hallucinations, and mind control.