#Pls feel free to ask me things if for some reason u feel so inclined <3

[somniumfaults]

My laptop needs to be fixed, so in the meantime! Here's my Tokyo Debunker OC that I've been working on!! Hehe <3 i love her and have both a drawing and fic wip of her waiting to be finished sometime ^^

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NAME: Misha

PRONOUNS: she/her

HOUSE: Sinostra (formerly Dionysia)

YEAR: 2nd

BIRTHDAY: May 17th

LIKES: cherries, pain/masochism

BLOOD TYPE: O+

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“Who’s to say there will be tomorrow?”

Sinostra’s much needed second-year healer. Determined to live her life out to its fullest, she won’t take no for an answer, for better or worse. Some of her self-destructive habits worry those around her, but as long as she has no regrets, there’s nothing for her to lose.

Pinterest Outfit References

Taiga/Misha playlist

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Motives: Take advantage of the opportunities you have to make the most of life and never let anyone take them from you. She was placed in Dionysia and transitioned into Sinostra when the house became defunct. Her placement in Sinostra was due to her resolution to be in control of her life no matter what. At the end of the day, she’ll do what she wants to do.

Demon pact: Sick of being chronically ill with an autoimmune disease no one cared enough to look into and the chronic pain, she chose to make a pact with a demon based on her anger at the idea of succumbing to her helplessness and the whims of other people. Her condition was not cured, but it is (almost always) forever at a stalemate as Buer’s ability to heal counteracts the damage done.

Stigma: Uber - can heal ailments* at the expense of an equivalent amount of her own blood

*ailments defined as temporary injuries or conditions. She can’t undo genetic conditions or change your brain chemistry.

Using her stigma allows for her autoimmune condition and chronic pain to reactivate due to the healing properties of her pact being redirected away from her. The more blood it requires, the worse she feels.

Due to the nature of her stigma, she can’t use it on herself because (a) she would be losing blood anyway and (b) accelerating the healing of other injuries would also allow for the acceleration of her autoimmune condition and risk injuring herself further internally.

Artifact: cherry bombs/m-80s

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❣️ RELATIONSHIPS ❣️

★ Rui ★

Misha → Rui: close friends 🙂 she visits his bar often for some fun drinks and gossip. They partner up sometimes so they can make homebrew hangover medicine and various other quick pick-me-ups. She prefers to use her stigma when he’s around to help offset her pain. They spent a lot of time together in their first year due to being the only two ghouls in Dionysia and work together well. Hearing his voice helps calm her due to the familiarity that it invokes, and she wishes they could still touch each other like they could prior to the curse. She worries that he may be too lonely.

Rui → Misha: close friends! She's his closest friend on campus and one of the few people he truly trusts to voice his grievances to. He isn’t super enthused about their medicinal drink partnership because he knows the side effects on her, but he won’t lie that he likes experimenting with what can be made. Misha is the one who volunteered and pushed to do it though, so he can’t say no. He wishes she would take better care of herself.

★ Haru ★

Misha → Haru: her drinking buddy!! She thinks he’s adorable, especially when he’s all drunk and pouty. She had a fling with him in their first year but now they’re just close friends. She’ll come help out with the park if he really begs and owes her something, because she knows he’ll coax a mile out of her if she gives an inch. She does worry about him though, so it’s not strange to find her stopping by regardless to do small favors for him. Sometimes she sneaks him healing drinks Rui and her made to help give his body a boost rather than just let him down energy drinks. She admires his hard work a lot.

Haru → Misha: his drinking buddy!! He had a crush on her in his first year, but now they’re just friends. He feels bad taking her drinks when he knows they're using her stigma and usually protests if he realizes, but sometimes it's just easier for him to swallow the guilt and take it… He needs it, sometimes. He's a bit sad they didn't end up in the same house for their second year and wishes they could spend more time together. He dislikes that she ended up in Sinostra and is especially unhappy with her relationship and dynamic with Taiga, but he has to swallow his dissatisfaction and concern most of the time because he wants her to be happy. Even though he thinks Taiga doesn't deserve her.

★ Romeo ★

Misha → Romeo: her drinking buddy!! She finds him funny when she’s not the one having to deal with him, and her preferred setting for chatting to him is when they’re both at the bar with a drink. Their interactions can grow tense due to their respective stubbornness and refusal to back down from doing things their own way, but for the most part their day-to-day interactions only get snippy at most. At the end of the day, she respects him and his capabilities even though she disagrees with his attitude most of the time. If there's anyone who is determined to live his life to the fullest at Darkwick, it's Romeo.

Romeo → Misha: she’s frustrating to deal with but capable and more or less reliable, unless she thinks he’s being stupid and in which case she’s an IRB (incorrigible rogue brat). She has good ideas though, and has more drive than Taiga does nowadays, so he doesn’t actually mind her too much. It helps that while they'd never spent personal time together in their first year, it wasn't as if she hasn't already been engaging with and working with Sinostra due to Taiga and her stigma. He definitely abuses calling her whenever he needs help reeling Taiga in. Not that she's the perfect solution, but two people Taiga tolerates and has affection for in his own way is better than one.

★ Taiga ★

Misha → Taiga: they’re in some sort of committed romantic relationship, although it's complicated nowadays. She misses the way he was in his first year; they had interacted a lot because he needed blood in order to use his stigma and her stigma helped a bit with the brain fog side effects. (Although obviously she was not his entire blood source.) Still, despite his mental state clearly having deteriorated, she continues to like him a lot and loves the thrill he brings into her life. It makes her feel alive and in a way, even more in control of her life because the injuries she sustains with and for him are purely by her own choice. (She doesn’t spill blood just for Darkwick. She doesn’t have to heal anyone when she bleeds unless she wants to.) (Also she’s just kind of into it. Even if her brother despairs over her walking into his office with more than just your average hickey.)

Taiga → Misha: he is usually able to remember her at least after a few moments due to their extensive relationship through their first year until now, from work relations to romantic commitment. He finds her presence and voice to be grounding when he’s feeling poor and sometimes when he needs a break from everything, he makes her just sit with him and keep him company as he rests. Over time due to their blood arrangement, she’s become one of the few, if not only, people in his life he feels comfortable being vulnerable and weak around. He likes the feeling of her fingers in his hair. Her blood tastes good to him and he knows he feels better after having some of it (both with or without her stigma), and it's not unusual for him to spontaneously chomp down on her when he’s feeling peckish. Even if she were to protest, depending on his mood he’ll just smirk and/or grumble and say she shouldn't be leaving such a tempting snack out in the open like that then (showing skin).

★ Professor Nicolas ★

Misha → Nicolas: he's her older brother. She’s somewhat detached from him due to their age gap and him having rarely been home when she was younger (thanks Darkwick). Her initial reaction to him was tense and verging on hostile, because she wasn’t expecting to see him at Darkwick and felt betrayed for various reasons. (A) She was upset to see him knowing that he never called home and thought he didn’t care, which not only hurt her but made her angry because their parents missed him. (B) A part of her wondered if this was all his fault and if he planned for this to happen to her and (C) She was angry because if he had just been more present in her life, maybe he could have known about her situation and prevented all this from happening since he had access to superior medical facilities. After a time, she calmed down and forgave him more or less once she realized what the true dynamic/situation of Darkwick was with its staff and students. Now, she’s grown to appreciate his company and appreciate having someone she knows at the school. They have a comfortable relationship even if she finds his concern to be overly fussy at times

Nicolas → Misha: she's his younger sister. He holds some resentment and guilt in his heart towards himself and towards Darkwick for letting her become a ghoul, because he believes he could have stopped it had he been a more involved sibling and realized she was suffering. He also feels guilt towards hearing the confirmation that his family feels abandoned by him, but that’s soothed somewhat by the knowledge that he’s bound by his duties. Although also slightly detached from Misha by virtue of not having been a large part of her life consistently, he cares deeply for her and worries about the choices she makes and the risk of retribution towards her from Darkwick. Even though she's a ghoul and heals quickly, he wishes her and Taiga would show some restraint in breaking her skin or worse. (He doesn't approve of their relationship and dynamic at all, but he's forced to bite his tongue to keep the peace.)

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technically this is still a work in progress bc she's my baby (oc I project onto) and I love thinking about her role in universe and elaborating on her dynamics w diff characters :3 but this is her "final" profile! Thanks for reading all that if you diddddd <3

shout-out and much thanks to @danieyells for their posts compiling info about the houses, stigmas, and more! They carried me a lot in making Misha, and you should definitely check out their posts <3

[ugh-yoongi]

i have a stupid, remotely offensive question/request.... pls don't jump me ok

so i absolutely adore your work and have been following u for a really really long time. since the time you were majorly writing for bts.

now.... i was wondering if you would re-write 'ex-conomics' for a bts member? 👁️👁️

feel free to ignore this ofc but i just HAd to ask because you're sUCh an incredible writer and i am just selfish.

hi! dw, i am not offended by this :)

i won’t re-write it for a few reasons. it’s a lot of work for something i’m not super inclined to do, considering i am still writing for bts! there will be more stories for them, i’m just currently inspired by other things. i have yoonjin wips i’m hopeful to work on and get posted eventually, not to mention fa&r being ongoing to some degree.

i totally get it if seventeen isn’t everyone’s cup of tea! i was going to create a separate blog for svt stuff for that reason but decided not to because, again, lazy. they will start to be featured more prominently in my writing, though, so maybe one day everyone can give it a chance!

i hadn’t written/posted anything in over 7 months, so right now i’m just going w the flow and writing what inspires me.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

what about....... 💻 for thomastair, with the plot "there's only one bed"? thank u 🥺

i know we're all going off about ariadne & alastair right now but I wanted to get this posted!! thomastair fluff with a little angst. i hope you like this, it was a lot of fun to write! pls check the end for disclaimers, i also cross-posted to AO3. only content warnings are discussion of grief and brief mention of racism.

prompt: “there’s only one bed”

“You’re in luck!” the innkeeper declared. “There are four rooms left.” 

“Thank you, sir,” James responded without question. Four rooms, eight people. “We’ll take them.” James paid the gentlemen and turned to his friends. 

Lucie pouted. “I suppose that means Daisy and I can’t share a room.” 

It was a trying journey, dragging a group of eight along into rural England, but they needed to find the portal that continued to allow Belial a connection to this realm, and their only leads were here. It was the sole way to stop Belial for good. It began as just the Merry Thieves, of course, but then Lucie and Cordelia caught wind of it, and they couldn’t refuse. From there, it was Alastair, who refused to allow his sister to go without him, despite the animosity that still sat between him and the other boys, and Jesse, who insisted that this was the only way to save Grace and free her from Belial’s - and their mother’s - control. As such, the eight of them departed. It might not be ideal to travel with so many people, but it did allow them to split into smaller groups relatively easily - unless, of course, those groups were sharing a room with each other. 

Without Alastair and Jesse, it would be simple: Lucie with Cordelia, James with Matthew, and Thomas with Christopher. However, no one really knew Jesse all that well apart from Lucie, and they certainly didn’t trust Alastair enough to leave Jesse with him for a night. Most logically, the girls would stay with their brothers, but Lucie had been excited about the idea of a ‘sleepover’ with Cordelia all day. The weather was beginning to become treacherous, as it sometimes did during English winters, and they knew they would need to retreat to an inn that evening. 

“Nonsense, Lucie,” Thomas said a little more quickly than seemed logical. “I can stay with Alastair, and I’m sure one of you doesn't mind staying with Jesse.” He eyed his friends. “You two should enjoy yourselves; it’s been a difficult couple of days.” 

Lucie’s eyes lit up eagerly. “Oh, Thomas, are you sure?” 

Matthew’s eyes had darkened and he repeated, “Yeah, Tom, are you sure?” 

Alastair rolled his eyes and ignored the fact that they were solely debating who would have the displeasure of spending the night in the same room as him. 

“I said so, didn’t I?” was Thomas’ reply. 

“I’ll stay with Jesse,” James offered before the discussion could continue into more hurtful territory. 

The innkeeper led them to their rooms, and they settled for the night. 

Alastair gritted his teeth when he saw that instead of two single beds, there was one double. He sighed. “I can go ask for extra blankets; I’ve slept in worse places.”

Thomas paused for a second in confusion. “Don’t be daft, Carstairs, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.” He turned his head sideways. “Though it might be a bit short…” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I said, don’t be silly. We’re here to rest, that’s all.” 

Alastair grunted but didn’t push it further. They continued in relative silence as they took turns changing behind the folding screen and freshening up at the wash bin. Finally comfortable, Alastair settled into the armchair beside the bed with the book he’d brought along and tried to consume himself enough in the reading that he could ignore that just a few feet away from him was the very tall, very muscular, very attractive man who hated him.

It wasn’t working. 

“What are you reading?” 

Alastair bit his lip. He hated when people interrupted him while he was reading, but he supposed he wasn’t really reading at all, just pretending to. The cover of the book was plain, a deep red leather with no writing. Whenever he was around folks who were not his family, he was careful to position himself in a way that no one would be able to see the writing inside - writing that did not use the Roman alphabet. He always felt more comfortable with Thomas, though, for some odd reason. He sighed. “Divan-e Shams.” He tilted the book towards Thomas so he could see a bit of the Farsi poetry written inside. 

“Would you read some to me? I’ve forgotten my reading material.” 

Alastair flashed him an incredulous look. “What an important thing to forget.” 

“Yes,” Thomas sighed. “I have realized. So…?” 

Alastair rolled his eyes and did his best to translate. “My desert is without end, my soul, my heart must tear. The world here-” 

“No, no,” Thomas interrupted. “In Persian.” 

Alastair pushed away some of his shock. After all, Cordelia had said that Thomas had been studying the language with Lucie. “Right,” he amended before beginning again. Around the same spot, though, he cut himself off. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“It’s just… it’s meant to be sung. It feels strange saying it.” 

“Sing it, then.” 

Alastair stared at him for a moment. Was this some sort of trick? Was he going to run off to his schoolboy friends the moment he was finished to laugh about what he had done? Was he doing it to get revenge? He pondered all of the possibilities, but his mind rested on just one thought: that perhaps it would be worth it, to play into some cruel trick, if it meant he could say that he’d sung to Thomas Lightwood, even just once. 

“I mean… You don’t have to, but you can. If you wanted,” Thomas said quickly, realizing that he might have made Alastair uncomfortable. 

Alastair cleared his throat and began to sing. He made sure to keep his voice soft and low as he made his way through the ghazal, careful to not allow anyone to hear through the walls. Cordelia would never let him live it down if she heard. He finally looked up at Thomas, who was staring at him intensely. 

“That was beautiful.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you understand any of it?” 

Thomas grinned. “Not a word.” 

Alastair chuckled. “That’s alright. Mevlevi - I believe you folks call him Rumi - was a genius. He crafted phrases in a way… Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything else quite like it. He gives new meanings to old words and uses quite a bit of wordplay, speaking of love and loss and longing… I used to think it was a tragedy, truly, that English speakers could not understand, but now… it’s nice. Like a secret only I, and, well, Persia, have access too.” He bit back a smile as he rambled. While the books he had were from his mother, she never had much of an interest in it all, nor Cordelia, so he’d never had anyone to muse about the poet with before.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard something so beautiful before. I didn’t even know you could sing.” 

Alastair felt his brain sputter a bit. He’d become so entranced with the language before him that he’d forgotten that he had just sung it to Thomas. He felt his face flush, and he was grateful that it is difficult to see against his dark complexion. “Oh… It was nothing. I mean, I don’t, really. It’s just something my mum taught me.” 

“It’s incredible,” Thomas said in awe, his face glowing a faint pink. “I, uh, I write songs, you know. I mean, I’ve never told anyone, least of all you, so, you wouldn’t know, but now you do. Just in my head, I mean. Well, sometimes I write them down. I’m not very musically inclined.” His face was growing redder by the second. 

Alastair was careful not to grin too widely. “Sing one, then.” 

“What?” Thomas squeaked. 

“Well, you don’t have to, but you can, if you want to.” 

Thomas threw him a quick glare for repeating his words and then took a deep breath. He was silent for a bit, but then he began to sing, careful not to look towards Alastair. “I woke up thinking you were still here, my hands shaking with regret. I've held this dream for such a long, long time, and now I want to wake up to the rhythm of a wild heart that beats, that beats like a drum. 

“Your light, it follows me in darkness. I'm trying hard, but I can't win, and I've played the victim for a long, long time, and I wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart, it leads, just like a river runs.” 

Alastair stood from the armchair and moved to where Thomas was sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “That’s beautiful, Thomas,” he said softly. “I didn’t… I know I didn’t know her, but I’m sure she’d love it.” 

Thomas turned away from him sharply, his lip trembling and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. 

Alastair took the other boy’s hand, cupping it firmly between his own, as if just to say, I’m here with you. “It’s alright.” 

“No, it’s not,” Thomas said, trying futilely to wipe away his tears. “We were having a moment, and then I ruined it.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he replied gently. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Thomas. You shouldn’t just push them away.”

Thomas scoffed. “What do you suggest I do then? Mask my pain with cruel, horrible lies about those who have done nothing to deserve them like you do?” 

Alastair dropped his hand and stood up, backing away from Thomas. He was silent for a moment. “You’re right. You are. But I’m trying, Thomas, I really am. I don’t want to…” I don’t want to be my father, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. “I don’t want to be the kind of person who takes my hurt out on others anymore, and I’m trying. I swear it.” 

“I know,” Thomas said softly. He was silent for a moment. “I understand why you did it.” 

Alastair’s jaw tightened reflexively. 

“Matthew said some awful things about… about the way you look, and your father, and… the incident. You were in a bad way already.” 

Alastair was speechless. He’d forgotten that Thomas was present for that. He hadn’t shared any of it with Thomas, not his insecurities about his heritage, nor his father, and certainly not the horrible, world-altering guilt over Clive’s death that still sat in the depths of his soul years later. 

“That doesn’t make what you said okay.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

“You weren’t trying to hurt me.” 

“I was not.” 

“You were trying to hurt Matthew.” 

He sighed. “I was.” 

“And you did.” 

“I did.” 

“And perhaps he deserved some of it.” 

“Not what I did, though.” 

“No, not what you did.” 

“I took it too far.” 

“You did.” 

“I know. I’ve known since the moment I said it. I’ve regretted it since the moment I said it.” 

“I know.”

“I don’t think that it’s something that can be fixed, though.” 

“With Matthew? Maybe not.” 

“What about with you?” 

“There’s nothing to fix, Alastair.”

“I thought you hated me.” 

“I wanted to hate you because you hurt Matthew. But… I think the world is just a little more complicated than I’d like it to be.” 

Alastair sat back down on the bed, though farther from Thomas this time.

“Is that… Is that why you dyed your hair? Because of the things he said?”

Alastair attempted to hide the way he physically flinched. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-” 

“Do you think he’s the only one?” he interrupted. “Do you think I haven’t been laughed at or ridiculed or worse, suspected to be dangerous or a thief, my entire life just because of how dark my hair and eyes and skin are?”  

“I’m sorry,” was all Thomas could find to say. “Matthew still shouldn’t’ve said those things. I’m sorry I never stopped him.” 

He’d left Alastair speechless yet again. The thought had never crossed his mind before, or perhaps it had, that Thomas could have ever spoken to Matthew about the kinds of comments he made on Alastair’s appearance. Though, the longer he pondered the idea, the more he wondered if he had held some sort of small resentment because of it, and never realized. “That wasn’t your responsibility.” 

“Perhaps not, but I could have tried.” 

He stared at him for a moment. Never in his life had felt so seen, so understood. In fact, he had many carefully built walls to protect against just that. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“How do you… just know everything?” 

Thomas half-rolled his eyes. “I don’t know everything. I just watch, and I observe, and I try, somehow, to understand. You’re not as complicated as you wish you were, you know.” 

He had a startling thought as he wondered whether anyone had ever watched him as closely as Thomas had. “Cordelia would disagree with you.” 

“Hm, I just might have to share with her the secret to you, then.” 

Alastair glared at him, but he was grinning now. “Don’t you dare.” 

“For the record, you know… I prefer dark features. Personally, I mean.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m sure there were many striking dark-haired women back in Madrid.” 

“Hm,” Thomas pondered in an exaggerated way. “I don’t know… Though, there was certainly an attractive dark-haired someone that I met when I visited Paris.” 

“Well, I would hope so,” Alastair deadpanned. “Because according to you, we just shared a moment.”

Thomas cringed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten I’d said that.” 

“Me? Never.” 

“Does this… Does this mean we’re okay now?” Thomas was slow and cautious as he spoke. 

“Yes, I think it does.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I could help you, you know, with your songs, if you wanted, once we return to London. With that one, or others. I can play the piano.” 

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You can play the piano?” 

Alastair shrugged. “Well, I used to, but I haven’t in a while.” 

“Why did you stop?” 

He bit his cheek as he thought. This was where he should say he grew bored of it, that it simply no longer interested him, or perhaps suggest that they should go to sleep, as they were both dreadfully tired, or even whip out a line cutting and cruel. He had meant what he’d said to Thomas, though, that he no longer wanted to be so heartless and closed off. “I don’t know… I used to play a lot with my mother when I was young. Then, life got too busy… I’d still play, but usually when my parents were fighting or when something was happening that I didn’t want Cordelia to overhear. I could just… start playing and everything else would just melt away. After a while, though, it was just hard to play without thinking about all of the bad memories.” 

There was more he wished to say, about how when he returned from the Academy he believed himself to be too corrupted and too broken to deserve to create anything beautiful, but this was a start. 

“I wouldn’t wish to remind you of any bad memories.” 

“Perhaps we could create some good memories, then.” 

“I… I’d like that.” 

“We should… we should probably sleep. It’s gotten late, and we’re sure to be running around all day tomorrow.” 

Thomas nodded, and they both climbed into opposite sides of a bed that once seemed far too small, but now, too wide. 

The exhaustion of the day finally creeping up on him, Alastair fell asleep almost instantly. 

When he woke, he found himself face first into Thomas’ night shirt. 

His head rested against Thomas’ chest, Thomas’ arm around his torso, their legs intertwined. He stared for a moment into the white of Thomas’ shirt, not daring to move. Should he? They’d flirted a bit the night before, but they were hardly even friends at this point. Was this too much, too far? The other boy seemed to be sleeping soundly, though, and from the sound of Thomas’ song and the circles he’d noticed under his eyes the past few months, he suspected that sound sleep might not be coming so easily to him nowadays. Therefore, the best thing would be not to move and risk startling Thomas from his rest. Besides, the room was quite chilly, and they could use each other’s warmth. 

Content with his decision to not move away from Thomas’ embrace, he allowed himself to fall back into a light, peaceful slumber, however long it would last. 

It lasted, he would learn, until his little sister began banging on their door. 

“Booooys,” she called. “Are you decent?” 

Alastair shot out of Thomas’ arms and fell onto the floor. He quickly straightened himself and hurried over to open it. “What do you want, Cordelia?” 

She grinned. “I just came to tell you that Lucie and I are eating breakfast downstairs. You should get ready.” 

“You could have said that through the door.” 

“I know,” she smirked. 

She started down the hall, and he closed the door, silently groaning. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked. 

“She’s up to something,” he answered. “We never should have left her and Lucie alone together. They probably spent all night scheming.” 

“Perhaps so,” he laughed. “Only one way to find out, though.” 

Alastair sighed. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll get ready quickly and go down, and then in five, maybe ten minutes, you can follow.” 

Thomas gave him an odd look, but didn’t fight it. “Alright.” 

A few minutes later, he joined Lucie and Cordelia downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Lucie had her notebook and was scribbling away while Cordelia nursed a cup of tea. A cup of black coffee sat in front of the seat he was meant to sit in. He loathed English tea, compared to Persian tea it was nothing more than hot water. None of the other boys had come down yet. 

“Alastair!” Lucie exclaimed when she noticed him. “Did you enjoy your night with Thomas?” 

Cordelia giggled. 

“I… We slept, if that’s what you are asking. That is what we were meant to do here, at an inn, wasn’t it?” 

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was most peculiar, when I went to request an extra blanket last night, well, it certainly was not sleeping I heard from the hallway…” 

“Cordelia, you didn’t-” 

“I did.” 

“You heard Alastair singing-” 

“He was. In Persian.” 

“In Persian,” Lucie said the words succinctly with no expression on her face, as if she was laying out a fact during a murder trial. 

Once again, Alastair was grateful that no one could see him blush. “Did you two actually get any rest last night or did you just spend it gossiping about me?” 

“Not just you,” Lucie replied. “You and Thomas.” 

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?” 

“You’re welcome, you know,” Cordelia declared smugly. 

Alastair let out an exasperated sigh. “What?” 

“It was all part of the plan, Alastair,” Lucie answered. 

“It was quite brilliant, actually,” Cordelia supplied. “It was all Lucie’s idea. She knew that if we were to stay at an inn, Thomas would jump at the chance to spend a night with you.” 

“And he did, as expected, without hesitation,” Lucie confirmed. 

“The only issue, of course, being me, because we’d be far too obvious a pair for him to try to argue against.” Lucie nodded along to Cordelia’s explanation. “So, Lucie spent all day musing about how much she’d love to spend the night with me, just in case the opportunity arose.” 

“And it did!” Lucie squealed. 

“She’s been planning this since the engagement party,” Cordelia finished. 

“The engagement party?” he responded incredulously. “That was ages ago!” 

“And it has finally come to fruition, has it not?” Lucie babbled excitedly. 

He didn’t give her the dignity of replying. “I only have one question, though - how did you know there would only be one bed?” 

Lucie’s eyes widened. “There was only one bed!” she squealed as she began furiously scribbling into her notebook once again.

DISCLAIMERS: I don’t speak Farsi and the translation that Alastair makes is actually from this document. It’s the poem on page 9 and 10 if you want to check it out! Also, the song that Thomas sings isn’t mine, it’s adapted from “Like A River Runs” by the Bleachers. I tried to write something, but I’ve never experienced what Thomas has, and it’s a very beautiful song written about the loss of Jack Antonoff’s sister. You should listen to it! Though, I imagine Thomas’ version to be a bit less upbeat.

[imanes]

hi pls ignore this if its too aware i am very aware im info dumping to a stranger just like rly in a bad place and since there's talk of uni and I've been following you for years... how do you survive marketing? (i think you did that through comms? im doing biz) bc im a freshie (my 2nd week now) and im only here bc i don't have any other offer and can't afford the alternatives and got rejected from all the social sciences courses wanted 2 goto... and im sb that has to like sth to even get through it. idk what exactly I'm asking but i just want life to be nice to me. hope your day has been good sorry for this ramble!

hi! i think what helped me deal with the fact that i am doing smt that is just not nourishing intellectually and spiritually is that these are just tools we're learning to use, but what matters is what we do with that knowledge. working in the comms/marketing field is a truly soul-sucking environment but what i did was write off agencies right off the bat because i just hate these people akfklgj i like working for smaller structures where i can learn what they're all about and how to support their mission thru my skills. i think working as the marketing person for something you're genuinely passionate about is a good option. u can like what you're communicating about rather than liking the field itself. that's what got me thru my years in uni and the reason why my projects were always more on the leftist/politically inclined side of things compared to like people who went into advertising and were like "let me shoot this product in a sexy way bc it stimulates me" like i don't get them and they don't get me but somehow we had the same curriculum and ended up doing vastly different things so u know there are some things to look forward to, especially once u realise that even tho u chose a path, this isn't the only path you'll ever walk on, and there isn't just ONE way of walking it anyways. good luck w/ uni!! and thank u for sticking around for so long babe <3 hope life treats u well and if u need anything feel free to hit me up again

[leviiattacks]

I’m a major procrastinator and I don’t know what to do anymore I think I’m setting myself up for failure :/ Got to love Gifted kid burn out

anon actually i relate to u a lot !!! i’ve definitely burnt out this year i went from being a high achiever and top of my classes to failing and not coming in for half of the days of the week. i don’t know, i suppose a lot of personal things piled up at once for me and it took a toll on my grades which in turn took a toll on me BUT!!!

recently i’ve been trying to improve my mental health and make the effort to attend school and stuff but i think sometimes fun things make it easier to not procrastinate. my attention span is horrible, i can’t even sit without wanting to distract myself but these things have worked for me and hopefully they work for you too !!! :D

p.s. i know you didn’t ask for tips or anything but i really want to help and make recommendations and stuff pls take care of urself <3

1. habatica !!

i’ve only had this downloaded for a while but i feel more motivated to do my tasks knowing if i don’t do them then my avatar goes through damage 💔💔

it may sound stupid to some people but if it motivates me it’ll never be stupid. set yourself daily goals and tasks and you get points for your character and can buy extras like clothes and accessories. it also helps you start to decrease bad habits and it helps you maintain your good habits :-)

2. having trouble studying ??? video call with a friend

i do this occasionally for psychology classes, i find it easier to video call a friend and ask her what task she’s on whilst i’m working. i’m more inclined to do my work so me and her can learn together when we do recall questions at the end of our sessions

although i find it easy to slack off by myself i can’t slack off around others because i’m so conscious of how people see me. that can be seen as a negative but i take it as a strength. if i’m so conscious i should take it as a chance to finish as much work as i can

if you don’t have a friend to work with then try a sibling or maybe try actively explaining what you’ve learnt to a parent or person you know. i do this with my mum so she knows i’ve been studying and she tends to be way nicer to me when i do so ;-)

3. give yourself a rewards system

you deserve fun >:( for every achievement or goal you meet reward yourself. watch a movie you’ve been dying to see, go outside with some friends after exam season has passed, buy that book you’ve been eyeing for a while !!!

for me i use kdramas, anime, podcasts and true crime videos as my rewards. i’m only allowed to watch episodes after i’ve done some work

4. take breaks

i know it must feel like you have to overwork yourself but doing a little at a time is more beneficial and easier to manage. you deserve breaks don’t make yourself think you don’t.

if you need a day to yourself give yourself that day to relax i assure you it’ll make it easier and you’ll feel lighter and more likely to do work

5. what motivates you ???

who or what motivates you ?? who are you doing this for ?? what are you doing it for ?? by finding out the reasoning behind your actions you’ll have a clearer mind for sure.

when you’re down what specifically motivates you ?? i find that without fail yoongi’s words comfort me and again whilst some people may find it stupid it still works for me so who cares really ?? i feel happier and more motivated and it works so 😎

here are two of my favourite things yoongi’s said :-)

6. if it makes you feel good to tell people what you’ve done in the day do that !!!

tell a friend or a member of your family everything you’ve done in the day. it feels good to tell people how long you’ve studied and all the topics you’ve learnt.

if you have no one willing to listen my inbox is always open feel free to tell me what you’ve done i’ll be proud of youuu

7. do not overwork when you’re exhausted and be honest about how you feel

don’t beat yourself up over tasks you haven’t done because you were exhausted. your body needs a break and if you ever feel the need to have a mental or physical break as i said before go for it. you are your most important asset not your grades.

i hope when you feel mentally strained you can reach out to talk to someone. it’s not good to bottle up your stress, letting everything out helps you. if anyone ever needs to talk my ask box is open but i know school causes lots of stress. don’t feel like your feelings aren’t valid or other people “have it worse” than you.

if you don’t like opening up to people like me (i find it so hard to open up a ha ha 😎😎😎) then i advise you at least acknowledge the way you feel. don’t ignore signs of exhaustion.

okayyy i think that’s it but reminder that you’re great. i know how it feels to burn out and i wish when i was going through the worst of it that someone told me they believed in me. so anon i believe in you and i hope you can believe in yourself too :-)

remember grades aren’t everything. seriously you may think they are but they really aren’t. i just hope we can all be happy some day !!!

[tartagliaxx]

hihihi this is really important i have spotted a fellow barbie enthusiast and the chILDE HC ADKNRWOFKS

ahem

your fav movie and why? least fav movie? fav love interest? FAV S O N G/SOUNDTRACK? 😳 thank u for your service ❤️

pls i will do anything to discuss barbie movies with ppl 😃

OHOH AND WHICH DO YOU THINK ARE CHILDE’S FAVS/LEAST FAVS? (of the above qs)

this is so chaotic...on another note i’ve been dying to talk to u but i’m too s h y lfmaofjs you’re so lovely so thank u barbie for being the gateway for me to say smth to u again 😎

hope ur keeping well and hydrated!! 🦋💞 xx (i—don’t know if u can remember me via my trademark sign off 😃 but that’s ok if u don’t lmaoo)

HELLOOOO!!! ofc i remember you bby!! so nice of you to drop by 💕✨ i am doing very well, thank you for your concern! i hope you are too uwu! i also see a highly intellectual being who’s both a childe simp and a barbie enthusiast 👀

huge and long barbie analysis utc!

my favorite movie is probably princess charm school ONLY because delancy was a bad bitch and i stan her and bc that horrid, horrid scene w blair tripping and busting into this wack ass modern hiphop dance in the middle of nowhere is so ridiculously funny. i am sure its both the worst and best thing they could ever have done. also the harry potter wannabe is an accurate representation of my last standing brain cell. least favorite movie is probably nutcracker? no specific reason i just dont vibe w it very well. OMG my favorite one is ken in fashion fairy tale. he carried the whole movie ahahahahhaha. literally would pay to see more of the exasperated, ‘im-having-the-worst-time-of-my-life-in-paris’ ken. i remember the airplane scene and the one with the pig AHAHAHHAHA peak comedy. as for the favorite song,, might be cheating BUT all the songs in the diamond castle soundtrack is a bop and i love it.

feel free to send in more barbie brainrot. lowkey also curious about your answers to the same questions🤧

i am inclined to say that his fav movie would be three musketeers bc duh action (childe lives for that scene where they make their weapons and clothes... also the training montage) BUT listen... childe would one hundred percent love princess and the pauper bc of preminger. he totally lives off his dramatic ass and jokingly copied his antics to piss off his siblings but somehow, some of it stuck w him and now he sometimes unironically act like him w/o him noticing. least fav movie would be barbie diaries. he HATES it. he thinks its corny and stupid and cheesy and just... he gets nightmares over the horrid animation (ngl he does like a few lines tho). his favorite love interests? are the twins in diamond castle. he loves the humor and the jokes and the charming (in his eyes at least) vibe. i would go as far as saying he probs acts like them on purpose when trying to woo someone of their feet. second runner up would be aidan for that sass and sarcasm but still reliable vibe. fav song is a round back to preminger’s solo: how can i refuse. i just see him singing it in the shower ahahahhahaha. or maybe the twins’ song in diamond castle. the uhhhhh double vision? one. imagine him doing the guitar riffs in the air w stupid guitar vocalizations. he would be so ashamed if someone sees him but he cant help it... it’s his true nature 👀

oh my god this ended up being so long ashajallajsal my bad my bad. i got carried away and did this word vomit. barbie just gives me so much nostalgia and i want to flex my useless knowledge over it bc my family had a passed down cd compilation of barbie films and its just— i binged them every single day after classes. i loved them bc princesses duh but now i love them bc its just so.. full of crack mentality and i totally live for that.

and pls,, feel free to send an ask about anything! like i dont mind you telling me abt your day, or asking for advices or questions and even more brainrot like this! i understand how it feels to have extreme shyness but i promise!! i dont bite and i would love to be friends ❤️

you’re so sweet and take care of yourself bby!!

[flightsrsk]

hello hello all !!! my name is riley and this is my actual trash son maverick, aka the flight risk !!! i am so so hyped to get the ball rollin on this, so check out info on my kid under ze cut !!

warning: this got rlly mcfreaking long and i am so sorry fjdklsjs i am incapable of writing a short intro post

unfortunately i will not be able to be around for the official opening bc i’m on vacation w my fam and godparents, but i will try and intermittently read intros and chat to you guys about plots !!!! PLS feel free to bombard me through IMs or through discord if any plot sparks ur interest or u think mav could fit well in one of ur plots!!! :’)

THE BASICS

Name: Maverick Hobbes Braxton

Age: Twenty-one

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/Him

Major & year: Philosophy, Third year

Faceclaim: Alex Fitzalan

Occupation: N/A

THE FLIGHT RISK

Maverick Braxton, as you might see, is an enigma—or rather, has evolved into one, slowly: a transformation that begun with his first breath. In his early years, the stage had been set for him, line by line. Act One: attend prep schools, excel in classes. Act Two: attend Covington, take center stage—you know, all of the things his older brother, Richard had accomplished with ease, just one year prior to all of his expectations. It was simple, really: a blueprint laid out ahead of him, with little to nothing in his way.

The only problem was that Maverick didn’t exactly see the point in choosing that path, that stage, that story. To him, it wasn’t challenging.

That, and the fact that the life laid out in front of him offered him absolutely nothing.

A series of banal expectations, unfair comparisons, and heartbreaking betrayals, and the traditional life of the Braxton child was thrown out the window—at least, in his brain, it was. See, Maverick Braxton, while independent, coy, and arrogant, isn’t stupid. He knows if he pleases his parents just enough, they’ll still distribute his trust fund and still bail him out of legal trouble when he inevitably tiptoes too far down the delicate line between ambition and rebellion. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish, but what does he owe to a family who paid him no attention, who never asked of his well-being, his own ambitions, his personal dreams?

He’s the kind of person to drive down the highway, windows rolled all the way down, cigarette lit—not because he necessarily likes the taste of nicotine, but because he likes the way the smoke creates clouds that obscure reality. He’ll surprise you in class when he interjects with a sarcastic but surprisingly salient point before throwing up his hood and retreating to the back corner for the rest of class. He’s the kind of person to start reading a book, flipping incessantly through the pages, both impatient by the pace of the plot, yet put it down before he reaches the final pages because he doesn’t want to be disappointed by the ending. He’s the kind of artist who rarely finishes a sketch, the writer who is never satisfied by a poem—for fear, of course, by deep-rooted insecurities that nothing that he will ever do will be enough.

A once-broken heart had taken time to mend, even though it seems ice-cold and whole from the outside. It’s why he has commitment issues: he doesn’t want to be burned again. He plays off his flirtatious bit as a personality trait, someone who is bored by the prospect of being tied down—and yet those who share his bed might consider him Covington’s most surprisingly deep pillow-talker.

An enigma, you see—one who doesn’t stick around long enough for anyone to truly understand, truly a Flight Risk.

BIOGRAPHY:

( You can read his full biography here! Still in the process of editing it a bit, but below are some important bullet points! )

Maverick was born the second of three children to the Braxton family—and as per usual with the Braxton children, he was born into a life filled to the absolute brim of expectation.

His father, a playwright, his mother, an actress. His brother, a theatre prodigy—what part did that leave him to play? The assumed expectations were to follow in his mother and brothers’ footsteps and take center stage; he excelled, for a while, but Maverick always felt lost.

Neighbors and family friends would always ask if he had measured up, in each and every shape and form: it was like the entire universe had a scoreboard with their names titling each section, and Maverick was always playing catch-up, never knowing where the finish line was.

For a while, he stuck to the script that was given to him: study, succeed, repeat. He tried to understand the ins and outs of his father’s work, of masterful acting techniques, trying to make a large enough splash to where his family would even notice the work he put into his life. Surprise: it didn’t.

It took him seventeen years to truly understand that his role in life was not exactly the story his parents had laid out for him, but rather, his sibling, instead.

Downcast emotions transformed quickly into cynicism. What used to make him feel sad now fueled a blue fire within Maverick’s chest, one that felt wronged by the system he was placed in: a complete first-world problem, but it was then and there when he decided to take advantage of his situation, given that he had spent his entire life dedicated to a part he wouldn’t play.

Hypocritical as he was, he still enjoyed the fruits of his parents’ work, cashing the unlimited checks with his name on them, as if it was some sort of sick version of love.

One piece of recognition that Maverick finally earned was an acceptance to Covington—and even that couldn’t be tainted by his brother’s success or his legacy status.

At Covington, Maverick has both lost and found his footing, multiple times. He’s quit acting, quit studying theater, in favor of a topic that stimulates his brain more than reading lines and

PERSONALITY:

Maverick Braxton is certainly a paradox. He’s charismatic, funny, and has a witty sense of humor –– and is generally appreciated by his peers because he’s able to move conversation and discussion without making topics seem dry.

Despite his apparent inferiority to his sibling, the Braxton family still breeds the cream of the crop. He’s certainly a bit arrogant sometimes, given that he’s intelligent, innovative, and clever, and wants to be recognized for it –– however, even if he might not show it on the outside, he appreciates a good challenger. He thinks it keeps his wit sharp, and of course, his ego would never show it, but he does appreciate learning from people. After all, his passion in philosophy, his current area of study, makes him certainly interested in how the world works.

Those who happen to get to know Maverick outside of the surface-level stuff, outside the initial cockiness and flirtatious front he puts on will know that he’s actually quite thoughtful. His lonely childhood has made him extremely loyal to those who have shown him similar trust and friendship –– he would never turn his back on them.

He asks probing questions, is a good listener –– perhaps because he’s interested in human decision making, but is also because he doesn’t quite know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally –– though he wants to.

Deep down, what almost no one knows is that he’s really quite soft. He passes his curiosity off as wanting to understand people, when really it’s a mechanism for hoping someone asks him questions in return, to give him the time of day he wished his parents ( and the rest of the goddamned universe ) had given him.

Despite his theatre prowess, he isn’t actually a particularly good liar. Those who spend enough time around him can hear his tone of voice incline slightly and see him scratch his brow.

AESTHETICS:

coffee-stained mugs, walking with headphones in but nothing playing, untied shoelaces, black hoodies, a cheeky smirk, small books in his back pocket, writing in the margins, unfinished poems, quoting old authors on a daily basis, incessant eye-rolling, pen ink stains, an unmade bed, mismatched socks, floral ties, empty bottles of liquor, rose thorn pricks, old worn poetry books, polished dress shoes, calloused fingers, unlit cigarettes between teeth.

HEADCANONS:

Funnily enough, Maverick’s name means ‘independent, a noncomformist’, which is exactly the path that he has taken to stray away from his family’s expectations.

He does have one strong connection to his family, though: his grandmother, on his father’s side. She understands the pressure he undergoes, who saw the pressure Maverick’s father endured to obtain the success he has. She is one of the only reasons that Maverick has not just jetted off to take on his own adventure. He loves her dearly, and wishes that her empathy and wisdom would rub off on the rest of his family.

Maverick has some form of synesthesia, which allows him to remember a lot more than the average person. He associates colors, smells, sounds, to words –– and allows him to efficiently study any subjects he doesn’t have immediate passion for.

In the privacy of his own bedroom, he sometimes writes poetry and sketches his thoughts and muses –– when he knows he’s in complete privacy. Faces and features that appear in his sketchbooks are often those he’s thinking of often, those who intrigue him. He’s actually quite good a sketching, maybe not quite as good at writing poetry.

His room is spotless –– evidence that he is a bit of a control freak sometimes. It shows that during his adolescence, he reveled in the parts of his life that he could control and perfect.

tw drugs. He more than dabbles in drug use, smoking marijuana maybe every other day, while partaking in harder drugs like cocaine and adderall and others probably once a week. He feels like he’s in control of his use, but it may start to get the best of him. end tw.

Maverick is left-handed. He hates that he gets pen ink stains when he draws, writes poetry, takes notes. His left palm is probably perennially covered with ink.

Though he’s often wearing headphones ( airpods, of course, the nerve of this rich kid ), half the time, nothing’s playing. Sometimes he forgets to press play on his phone, sometimes he purposely likes listening to decision-making and conversations of strangers. it lets him think about the nature of mankind.

Maverick’s favorite philosopher is Albert Camus, known for his work that heavily developed the idea of absurdism ( much to do with the meaning of life, and human inability to discern an answer ).

Maverick’s preferred method of transportation is his skateboard. he loved it first because his parents hated it: pushing himself around on a board like that would get him injured—besides, why not just take the car to school, the driver had been paid for anyway? It was his first taste of rebellion. Now at Covington, where skateboarding is far more efficient than walking across campus, it comes in handy when he sees someone he’d rather not stop and chat to.

Maverick could die with a poetry book nestled on his chest—it’s the one thing he got out of the impressive book collection his family owned. There was something daunting and beautiful about the way poems would transform metaphors into something fantastical, like the emotions were clearly there, but the words were skirting the issue. Kind of like how his parents would never really tell him they loved him.

Maverick often has headphones in when he walks to class. not particularly because he’s actually listening to music or a podcast, but rather because he’d just … rather not be bothered to stop and talk to people.

Maverick loves to draw. He’s mostly self-taught, with a bit of mentorship from his high school art teacher. Evidenced by the rest of his fleeting personality, he rarely finishes a sketch or painting. He claims he never has time to finish them, but the number of crumbled-up, half-finished sketches in his trash bin might say otherwise.

PLOTS

** see my wanted plots tag here too! // and my plots page here !!

* FIRST LOVE / OPEN.

It wouldn’t be easy to make Maverick feel like even more of a disappointment than he already had with his parents, his family—but your muse proved this feeling wrong. He loved them, more than he’d ever loved anything before. In the midst of confusion about where he belonged, he felt safe with your muse; he’d do anything for them. Things ended, he felt betrayed ( though the break-up could have easily been due to a fault of his ), and the split made him the one who now struggles fully with commitment. He doesn’t want to have his heart broken again. See: this entire pinterest board.

but also if u give me this ……………… i’ll name my firstborn after u

* BEST FRIEND / OPEN.

Those who go through similar childhood traumas are often able to understand each other –– that was how it worked with Maverick and your muse, at least. They’re thick as thieves — and have likely seen the ups and downs of Maverick’s life in real time.

* CHILDHOOD FRIENDS / OPEN.

Self explanatory—and also probably knows about the pressures the Braxton family imposes on their children.

* EX-FRIENDS / OPEN.

Friends who were close, close no longer. Maverick’s a real piece of work, and an asshole, too—there are myriad possibilities for why Maverick could have pushed them away. He wouldn’t openly admit that he misses being around your muse, but he certainly would feel a bit of guilt given that they’re no longer the closest of friends.

* MOMENT OF WEAKNESS / OPEN.

Your muse, in whatever unfortunate setting, saw a glimpse of Maverick’s soft side that hardly ever makes an appearance. He’s not going to let them tell the world about his vulnerabilities, though. Not a chance.

* DISLIKED / OPEN.

Maverick is sarcastic, cold, and sometimes emotionless. It’s not surprising that not everyone gets along with the middle Braxton. The possibilities are endless—throw in some sexual tension and I’d actually fall at ur feet.

* PREVIOUS ROOMMATES / OPEN.

Your muse, at one point, probably knew Maverick better than everyone else at Covington. They overheard some of his phone calls with his parents, saw his notes for how he was to achieve his life goals, heard him crying in the middle of the night when he thought your muse was asleep. They could be extremely close now, as in one of the few people Maverick opens up to, or could be distant friends who know about one anothers’ struggles. The possibilities are endless, tbh.

+ ANYTHING LEGITIMATELY ……… IF U THINK THERE’S POSSIBILITY FOR SOMETHING COOL W MAV AND UR MUSE. SIGN ME THE F UP. THANKS.