#as always mary is the best muse i could ask for

[honeybyte]

Heavenly Bodies, Amaryllis "Mary" Bellarose

the raffle prize for @oniisann! thank you for all your support !

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Chapter One

Here it is! Hope you enjoy <3

Picrews

Content: sci-fi setting, human trafficking

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763

Veya stood on the bridge of her ship, carefully studying the stars spread out in front of her as her ship hurled through space. It was moments like this that brought her peace, watching the cosmos twinkle in the distance. The hum of her ship filled her ears, the tiny vibrations that she’d adjusted to over the years still vibrating the floor. It was truly something special, being Starcross’s captain.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” She mused, turning to her first mate.

Elzar hummed. “You say that every time.”

“And?”

“You’re right,” they admitted, tone annoyed but face smiling.

“Jesse, where are we at?” She said, flipping back into a more serious mode.

In front of her, Jesse, the pilot, was hard at work, eyes flickering between the yoke and the wide array of monitors and sensors the ship had been outfitted with over the past decade. “We’re on course. Expecting arrival on Zarian in roughly a day’s time.”

“Thanks, Jesse,” Veya smiled, turning around to go check on dinner, when the normally consistent pinging of the beeping changed. She sighed, turning around on her heel. “What’ve we got?”

Jesse leaned in close to the screen. “Mid sized cruiser, no distress signals.” She flicked some more switches. “No signals at all, actually, and no life signs. Think they’re D&A.”

That was odd. “Any idea who it is?”

“Scanner says it’s Yeran,” Jesse wrinkled her nose. “What are they doing out here?”

“Peacekeeping, or whatever made up shit they call it,” Elzar scoffed.

Veya murmured a very quiet “probably” under her breath. “Bring us in closer.”

Yeran ships could be risky, but they could also be fruitful. Least they could do was check it out.

The ship slowly decelerated as Jesse pulled the throttle down, and the downed cruiser oated by on the port side. Its entire stern had been blown out, debris floating around it.

“The fuck?” Elzar whispered.

Yaren vessels didn’t get attacked like that. Even out in the transition systems, where they weren't the most popular, you never saw this. Either the rebels were escalating, or they’d met a pirate crew ballsy enough to do some real damage.

“Probably some good stu in there” Veya chewed her lip. “The damage might’ve exposed a cargo hold or two. Think it’s worth it?”

“I think poking around wouldn’t do any harm,” they agreed.

Veya smiled. “Let’s take a look.

*** The airlock wired as it sealed shut, welcoming Veya and Elzar, along with Oka, their brilliant person who knows people, into the crushing void of space. Using their packs, they propelled themselves towards the bottom levels of the wreckage.

Mari, the mechanic, had given them a list of parts for them to see if they could salvage, and he’d also pointed them to where they could find the best loot. He was about eighty percent sure that it was still attached to the ship, and hadn’t been blown to smithereens.

Dead ships always gave Veya the creeps, even more so when they were governmental. The power had been cut, meaning everything was eerily dark. She pushed through the emergency airlocks. They’d all been activated in the crash, and the manual open mechanisms were easy enough to gure out, even if they were Yeran.

It was a bit odd, floating around in a ship that was designed for walking, since the gravity generators had been knocked out, but she managed, pulling herself into one the cargo bays that hadn’t been damaged. Elzar followed behind her.

“Damn, there’s some nice stuff in here,” they said as they paged through a manifest. “Rations for weeks, some medical stuff Ziar’ll love, two hoverbikes…” they turned to Veya, making their biggest puppy eyes. “Hoverbikes?”

Veya chuckled. “We don’t have room.” She placed her hands on her hips, a dicult motion in zero gravity. “And, before you ask, I’m not jettisoning cargo that makes us money.”

Elzar deflated, overplaying their disappointment. “Yes, captain.”

As they looked for the useful cargo they would be…liberating, Veya checked in with Oka. “How’s the spare part search going?”

“Great. I’ve got the two weird shaped ones he’s been bugging me about, plus a couple others,” they responded. “Hold up, I see something weird. I think there’s a hidden compartment.”

Veya raised an eyebrow. That could have some serious loot in it. “I’ll be right over.”

Sure enough, when they pushed a little more than normal, the paneling came away, revealing a small, tight space just barely big enough to fit the crate that was shoved inside. With Jesse’s help, they were able to slide it out, the lack of gravity making it harder.

The crate was entirely, black, with the exception of a yellow and white striped band around the sides. On the top there was a small control panel, which displayed several numbers, and a block of warning text written in curling Yeran script.

Veya could speak a little Yeran, but she couldn’t read it at all. She pressed the button on the side of her helmet, changing the channel so she could talk to the ship. “Ziar, can you read Yeran?”

Her voice was a little staticy because of the distance, but it was understandable enough.

“Yeah, you wanna send me a feed?”

“On its way,” she said, turning on her chest cam. “Got it?”

“Yep. Can you move closer?”

She maneuvered herself so that her chest was directly over the text, stabilizing herself by grabbing onto the walls. It was an awkward position to hold, but she managed to stay still enough for Ziar to read.

“It’s a warning label.” She went silent for a moment. “Holy shit, it’s a species containment unit. There's someone in there.”

“Shit,” Veya echoed, pulling away from the crate. The implications of the statement were obvious. You don’t hide a person in a secret chamber in the engine room unless you’re smuggling them.

And you don’t use an SCU unless that person didn’t want to be smuggled.

“Bring it with us,” she ordered, ignoring how she could almost hear her old captain cursing her out from beyond the grave. “We’ll load up the supplies and the SCU. Move quickly, don’t want to meet the wrong end of a Yeran rescue crew. Yeah? “

There was a chorus of “yes” and “alright,” and then they got to work.

*** Ziar met them in the cargo bay, a med bag slung over her shoulder and a worried expression on her face. While Elzar and Oka secured their newfound supplies, Veya helped her load the SCU onto a cart so they could take it to the infirmary.

Since the infirmary was on the second deck, the elevator ride was short. They carefully unloaded it, setting it down on the floor. Ziar leaned forward, eyes scanning the vital signs monitors on the top of the box. “If the thing’s accurate, then they’re at least alive.” Her fingers skittered along the edge of the box as she tried to find the latch. “Got it.”

It hissed as she opened it, the levitators thrumbing louder. She peeled away the insulator layer, then peered inside.

The first thing that she noticed about the figure lying in stasis wasn’t the myriad of tubes protruding from their body or gel pressed over their eyes, it was the myriad bruises, cuts, and scars that covered their body. It had to be hundreds of past injuries.

What in the world was a person who looked like they’d been through hell doing in a secret compartment on a Yeran ship?

And, more importantly, what, exactly, had she gotten her crew into?

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @emmettland @blackberry-bloody

@whumpacabra @cepheusgalaxy @softvampirewhump @my-little-versaille @pigeonwhumps

@whumped-by-glitter @snaillamp @rainydaywhump @platysaurus @whumpy-daydreams

@whiskygoldwings

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

Ψ M is for Maraclea: Chapter Eleven

M is for Maraclea: Following an accident you had over summer break, you find yourself in limbo after being legally dead for several minutes. Now an outcast at boarding school, you end up finding comfort in a strange boy named Nigel. As winter draws near and tragedy strikes, your only reprieve from madness comes from a mind much like your own.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Nigel Colbie x Fem!Reader, NAMED Reader for Plot Reasons, There Are A Lot of DARK Themes.

Word Count: ~2.8k

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You are with Michael in the music room at the boys academy, listening him practice and giving pointers. His fingers glide over the piano keys with a practiced ease. The melody fills the space, wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. You wait until he finishes before approaching.

"Michael, your flow and transitions were smooth," you say, leaning against the piano. "I doubt you need further input from me."

He looks up, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks, Mary. Just trying to get ready for the recital next week."

"You'll do great," you assure him. "Your playing always has so much emotion. Technicality isn't the only measure the judges look for."

Michael chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "I appreciate that. I just hope I don't mess up in front of everyone."

Before you can respond, Alex strides into the room, his expression serious. He grabs your arm gently but firmly.

"Mary, I need to talk to you," he says, urgency in his voice.

You glance at Michael, who gives you a curious look before nodding slightly. You let Alex lead you out of the room and down the hall until you're away from prying ears.

"What's going on?" you ask, concern creeping into your voice.

Alex takes a deep breath, looking around as if to make sure no one is listening. "Mr. Colbie shot Mrs. Colbie last night," he says quietly. "Then he shot himself."

The news is bland on your stomach. More death? You try to process it, but something feels off. Nigel never spoke highly of his parents; their relationship was strained at best.

"Why are you telling me this before the gossip starts?" you ask, suspicion lacing your words. "Nigel wouldn’t mourn their deaths."

Alex's eyes flicker with something you can't quite place. "Nigel needs to act like he's upset," he explains, his voice low and urgent. "With the university sponsors visiting, questions will arise if he doesn't show any signs of mourning."

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall. "Why do you care? I thought you didn't like Nigel."

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "We've made our peace. We have something in common now."

Your brows knit together in confusion, nearly snorting. Sure, Alex and Nigel had similar minds, but they had been so brusk with each other you never thought they would see eye to eye. "Something in common? You two were acting like you get along like oil and water. What changed?"

Alex looks at you, his gaze softening. "You," he says simply. "We share similar thoughts in the extent we'll go to protect you."

"You two barely tolerate each other," you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "What could possibly make you work together?"

Alex glances down the hall, then back at you. "We've realized we have to. For your sake."

You want to argue, but the look in his eyes silences you. He's not just being dramatic. There's a weight there, a sincerity that scares you more than anything else. A dark sharpness. You knew the lengths they would go. They already have.

"Very well," you muse quietly. "anything else?"

"Nigel will be expecting you after class," Alex continues, stepping closer. "Just... go along with whatever he needs today. Emotional or otherwise. The Colbie’s deaths are going to bring scrutiny."

You nod slowly, feeling a cold knot form in your stomach. "Okay," you say quietly.

Alex gives you a quick kiss on the crown of your hair. "Take care, Mary," he murmurs. "I'll see you later." You give him a small nod and watch as he turns and walks away, his shoulders tense.

When you return to the music room, Michael is still at the piano, playing a soft, haunting melody. He looks up as you enter.

"Everything okay?" he asks, concern in his eyes.

"Of course," you lie smoothly, a touch of a smile on your lips. "Just... family discussions. Play the last chord for me again."

He nods understandingly and resumes playing, doing as you ask. You sit down next to him on the bench, letting the music wash over you. For a moment, it almost drowns out the chaos in your mind. But not like Nigel does.

Nigel finds you sitting on a bench in the courtyard, his footsteps quiet but sure. You look up from the book in your lap, meeting his eyes. They hold that same intensity you're used to, but today there's a hint of something else. Uncertainty? No, it's too subtle for that.

"They came and went," Nigel says, settling beside you without invitation. "The university representatives."

You close your book, turning slightly to face him. "How did it go?"

He shrugs, but you can tell it's more than just a casual gesture. "They offered me a scholarship to Cambridge," he says, trying to keep his voice even.

Your eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. "Pre-med track?"

"Yes," he confirms, his eyes searching your face for a reaction. "It's what I've always wanted."

You nod slowly, processing the information. "That's incredible," you say softly. "You deserve it."

Nigel's gaze flickers down to your hands, then back up to your eyes. "I'm not sure if I should go."

"Why?" The question slips out before you can stop it.

He shifts slightly on the bench, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "Because of you," he says simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

The words hit you like a physical blow. "Me?" you echo, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nigel's eyes lock onto yours, unblinking. "I can't leave you here alone," he explains. "Not with everything that's happened."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Nigel, I'll be fine," you say, though the words feel hollow even to you. "You can't put your future on hold because of me."

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. "It's not just about my future," he says quietly. "It's about us."

You take a deep breath, letting the silence stretch between you for a moment. The weight of Nigel's words hangs in the air, and you feel the need to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"So," you say, your voice softer now, "you're still planning on focusing on general surgery?"

Nigel nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes. It's what I've always been drawn to."

You allow a small smile to touch your lips. "You have the steadiness for it," you remark, your gaze dropping to his hands. "And the finger dexterity."

Nigel's eyes darken slightly at your implication, but he doesn't look away. Instead, he shifts closer to you on the bench, his fingers brushing against yours. The memory of his touch lingers in your mind, a sharp contrast to the coldness you often crave.

"You're right," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I've always had a knack for precision."

You feel Nigel’s fingers brush against yours more firmly this time. The area around the pond fades away, leaving just the two of you on that bench. His eyes, dark and intense, hold yours captive.

“You know,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady, “we probably shouldn't be out here for too long. Someone might see us.”

Nigel's lips curl into a slight smirk. “Let them,” he says, his voice a soft challenge. "At least they'll know you're mine."

Nigel leans in, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you closer. The bench is cold beneath you, but his touch ignites a fire that courses through your veins.

His lips meet yours, firm and insistent. You respond immediately, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair. The kiss deepens, and you feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Nigel's hand slides up your back, pressing you closer to him. Your bodies meld together as his tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. The stone bench beneath you is forgotten as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips, his touch.

You break away for a moment, gasping for air. Nigel's eyes are dark with desire as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Mary," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You're all I think about."

You don't respond with words; instead, you pull him back to you, capturing his lips once more. This time, the kiss is even more intense, more desperate. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch of you with a possessive need that sends shivers down your spine.

Your own hands are just as eager, tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt. You can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained desire that mirrors your own.

Nigel's hand slips under your shirt, the warmth of his touch contrasting sharply with the cool air around you. His fingers trickle across your flesh, brushing along your hip bone before slowly crossing your lower stomach. Yet where his fingers should have roused goosebumps and pleasure, your stomach rolls with nausea.

You pull back, feeling a sudden wave of nausea. You place a hand on his chest, not quite pushing against him but keeping him away from your mouth should your stomach rebel.

Nigel's eyes immediately fill with concern. "Mary, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice gentle but insistent. He cups your face with one hand, searching your eyes for any sign of what might be troubling you.

You force a small smile, though it doesn't reach your eyes. "I think I'm coming down with a cold," you say softly. "I've been feeling fatigued and having headaches lately. So you should probably hold off on kissing me, I don't want you getting sick because of me."

"Never mind the kissing," Nigel mutters while his brows furrow, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. You don't feel hot. "You should have told me sooner," he says, his tone almost scolding but laced with worry. "We need to get you back to your dorm so you can rest. This cold certainly isn't helping."

"I am perfectly warm, Nigel." you say as you shake your head slightly, not wanting to move just yet. The thought of going back to the dorm feels suffocating. "I'm fine," you insist, though your voice lacks conviction. "I just need a moment."

Nigel doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push the issue further. Instead, he pulls you closer to him again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders protectively. You lean into his warmth, grateful for the comfort it brings even as the coldness within you persists.

"We should get you some medicine," Nigel says after a moment, his voice firm with determination. "Something to help with the fatigue and headaches. The nurse will surely have something to help you."

You nod slowly, not having the energy to argue. "Okay," you agree quietly.

Nigel stands up and holds out a hand to help you up from the bench. You take it, feeling a bit unsteady on your feet. He keeps a steadying arm around your waist as he guides you back toward the dorms.

As you walk, Nigel continues to fuss over you, asking if you're feeling dizzy or if you need to sit down for a moment. You assure him that you're fine, though in truth, every step feels like an effort. You were feeling more and more fatigued by the second.

Nigel’s arm remains a steady presence around your waist as you both approach your dorm. The cold air nips at your skin, but it’s the exhaustion that weighs you down, making each step feel heavier than the last. You lean into Nigel, drawing from his strength.

When you reach the entrance, he pushes the door open and guides you inside. The warmth of the building envelops you, but it does little to chase away the coldness within.

Just as you’re about to head towards your room, Mrs. Kensington, the dorm manager, appears in the hallway. Her sharp eyes narrow as she takes in your pale complexion and Nigel’s protective grip.

“Mary, what’s going on?” she asks, her tone a mix of concern and authority.

“She’s coming down with something,” Nigel explains before you can respond. “She’s been feeling fatigued and having headaches. I think she should see the nurse.”

Mrs. Kensington steps closer, her gaze softening slightly as she studies your face. “Thank you for bringing her back, Nigel,” she says, her voice gentler now. “I’ll take it from here.”

Nigel looks reluctant to let go of you, his grip tightening for a moment before he releases you into Mrs. Kensington’s care. “Take care of her,” he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of worry and something deeper.

You give him a small nod, too tired to say much else. Mrs. Kensington wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards the main part of the school where the nurse's office is located.

As you walk away with Mrs. Kensington, you glance back at Nigel one last time. His eyes follow you until you round the corner and disappear from sight. You feel Mrs. Kensington's arm guiding you through the halls. Each step feels like dragging weights, but you keep moving, leaning into her support.

"You're burning up," she murmurs, her voice a mix of concern and annoyance. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

You manage a weak smile, though it doesn't reach your eyes. "Didn't want to bother anyone and I like the warmth.”

Mrs. Kensington gives a soft huff, shaking her head. "You need to take better care of yourself, Mary. This isn't just about you anymore."

Her words sting more than you expect, but you nod, too exhausted to argue. The nurse's office comes into view, and the sterile smell hits your nose as soon as the door swings open.

"Nurse Brown," Mrs. Kensington calls out, her voice firm. "We have a sick student here."

Nurse Brown looks up from her desk, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. She quickly stands and gestures for you to sit on the examination bed.

"What seems to be the problem?" Nurse Brown asks, pulling out a thermometer.

"She's been feeling fatigued and having headaches," Mrs. Kensington explains before you can open your mouth. "Nigel Colbie was kind enough to help her back to the dorms. I think she might be coming down with something."

Nurse Brown nods, placing the thermometer under your tongue. You sit there quietly, feeling the cold metal against your lips. The room is too bright, too sterile, making your head pound even more.

The thermometer beeps, and Nurse Brown frowns as she checks the reading. "You're running a fever," she says, her tone matter-of-fact. "We'll need to get some fluids in you and keep an eye on your temperature."

Mrs. Kensington pats your shoulder gently before stepping back. "I'll check in on you later," she promises before leaving the room.

Nurse Brown helps you lie down on the bed, adjusting the pillow under your head. "Just rest for now," she instructs, her voice soothing. "I'll bring some water and a test kit, we don't want strep running amuck."

You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over you. The cool sheets against your skin are a welcome relief, and for a moment, you feel a semblance of peace.

You lie there, the exhaustion pulling you deeper into the bed. Nurse Brown returns with a small tray, setting it on the table beside you. She hands you a cup of water and you sip it slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothe your dry throat.

“Open wide,” Nurse Brown instructs, holding up the swab for the strep throat test. You comply, opening your mouth as she gently swabs the back of your throat. The sensation makes you gag slightly, but you manage to hold still until she’s done.

“There we go,” she says, placing the swab into a small vial. “This will take a few minutes to process.”

She sits down beside you, pulling out a clipboard with a series of forms. “While we wait, I need to ask you a few questions about your recent health.”

You nod, feeling too tired to speak.

“Have you been experiencing any other symptoms besides fatigue and headaches?” she asks, her pen poised over the paper.

“I have been a little nauseous.”

“Any changes in appetite or sleep patterns?”

You shrug slightly. “I’ve been sleeping more than usual.”

Nurse Brown makes a note on her clipboard. “And when was your last period?”

The question catches you off guard. You mentally calculate the days in your head and realize with a jolt that it’s late. You hesitate before answering, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s late.”

Nurse Brown looks up from her clipboard, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How late?”

You swallow hard, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “About two weeks.”

She makes another note on her clipboard, her expression thoughtful. “I do not find that surprising, all the girls’ stress levels have been elevated in recent months given what’s happened. I'm sure it is nothing to worry about."

Date Published: 7/28/24

Last Edit: 7/28/24

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[kazeofthemagun]

Anonymous asked:

send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog

Positivity meme

[.....Oh boy y'all already know where this is going]

[I legally cannot answer this without putting my bestie in the #1 spotlight, aka Bug aka @cursedfortune aka some other blogs I'll mention in a sec. Literally the most amazing person ever and one of, if not the best friend I've made here in my 4~ years of being on tumblr.]

[To preface, Bug's blogs post ns/fw so keep safe if that's not your thing/you're a minor, as well as heavy content to be expected from dark fantasy-themed muses. The details you'll find on the blogs themselves, so I'll refrain from wasting too much time when I could be getting to the JUICE 🥤.]

[The main, the OG, @cursedfortune . Bug's main OC, Mortem, is amazing in every way. Seriously. She's got it all. Looking for a strong, competent female character with an intriguing and compelling backstory sprinkled throughout the blog? They're your Bug. Fancy some in-depth exploration on blue-and-orange morality that transcends human understanding and puts in the forefront the often terrifying workings of balancing forces? They're your Bug. Really, those who have been here for any amount of time probably know but Mortem is Kaze's first and only ship but neither of us went into it thinking those two chucklefucks would catch feels in that way. In hindsight it makes complete sense, but here's the deal: don't begin your journey with this character solely to ship. It won't work that way - shipping needs chemistry first and foremost and female OC muses are already dealing with many users who go in with only the intent to write romance/smut and largely ignore what makes the character so compelling and unique in the first place.]

[Not to give lessons on tumblr etiquette, I'm sure y'all can understand 💜]

[Some other OC blogs of Bug's that I've interacted with a bit less but are nonetheless amazing:]

@bvd11975 That's not a spambot, baby. That's Nes, a special agent of an agency focused on paranormal investigation that plays a key role in Bug's overarching setting. Kickass character, design, story and personality-wise.

@ofmanytxngues A glorious force of chaos lmao. Not *that* Chaos, but uhh.. there's def A Wormy Boi (gender neutral) involved there somewhere. Marie is another character I haven't written with all that much and is on hiatus atm but I simply cannot not give her a shoutout while I'm at it. Marie and Ana riding an ice cream truck when?

Some others that are more WIP atm ^^ you'd have to approach Bug for them. (And their canons! But this is a meme for OCs specifically ;)

[NOW, to take a break from gushing about the best soup to ever soup and give due spotlight to others who 100% deserve it - keep in mind this is based on my interactions with them, as in, I am unlikely to shout out people I haven't written with or otherwise interacted with enough!! This is in no way personal, but rather a natural consequence since there are SO many amazing people and muses on tumblr. 😄]

@halfkuma and @knightshonour . Those two started out as iterations on the same character and evolved into separate people: also feature a healthy dose of secondary OCs and some canons. Rowan is a character I've fallen in love with (figure of speech) very easily since, well, I do happen to enjoy gloomy, doomed by the narrative warriors, and Soulsborne, very much. Halfkuma is a blog based around the Touhou universe with the mains, Roan and Touri, being bear yokai. (Half and full respectively). Furthermore, Slap himself is one of the chillest beans on here and is always a pleasure to talk to and meme with.

@hriobzagelthewanderer !!! Because how could I NOT. Kov is amazing and so is his muse. I was so surprised to see a figure from Polish (and generally Slavic + Germanic) folklore, that I essentially grew up reading about, transformed and adapted into an amazingly crafted muse. Hriob Zagel combines various mythologies + popular media inspirations into one giant (pun intended) goofball who is an absolute delight to see on my dash.

Aaand last but not least (for now!) Though I haven't interacted with her personally just yet, @hexenjagd . Obligatory shoutout to a dark fantasy/Elden Ring-based female OC with some of the most intricate yet well-flowing backstory I've seen on the site. Helena, the Witch-Knight, a person branded by the touch of Death and everything it entails within the setting. Definitely grimdark and macabre in all the right ways and I am here for it. 😎

[creatureshrieks]

What is your favorite thing about Maria? What made you want to muse her?

@barbed-cudgel || unprompted.

you fool. you FOOL. you have asked me this and now you will get an ESSAY FROM ME.

As someone that played the original game before the remake, I will admit a fun fact: Going into the game I had no opinions or feelings about Maria! I already knew about the games story, so Maria wasn't a surprise to me. I cared more about James at that point and was going for the Leave ending. So, I tried my best to ignore Maria and focus on getting to Mary and the truth. However, I'm a weak man and Maria is... Maria. It's no surprise that my first attachment to her began when he entered Heaven's Night and she does her little moment where she unlocks the door and James is incredibly eager to see where she's keeping those keys. It was in the hospital where I really got attached to her and them by time I reached the end and got the Leave ending is when my love for her was sort of finalized. Born from a Wish only made it worse and completely secured my love for her. Because the thing about Maria? She's not a villain. She's not evil. She's not cruel. She's a victim. She's confused. She's scared. She's alone. And nothing, no matter what she does, will ever, ever change that. At her core, in a meta sense, Maria is... a plot device. She is a plot device for James to work off of, to fight, to fall to. Whatever he does doesn't matter. Maria is there for James to find his redemption. To find the truth. She is there both as a source of comfort, a guide, and a temptress. The thing though? This is not something she chose. This is not something she wants. She makes it clear in Born from a Wish she isn't even fully aware of who is. She has vague memories, feelings, etc. but she almost exists in this uncertain, fugue state until, eventually, she realizes what she is. This uncertainty of who she is comes into play later, but I'll get to that in a little bit.

The main thing about Maria is that she knows she isn't real. She knows she's some combination of James' - AND Mary's - wants and desires. She knows this and it hurts her. It hurts her so much to know she can never be someone, something. Anything. Anyone.

She knows this and she can not escape from it. In Born from a Wish (A title that describes her very existence) she even puts a gun to her head and contemplates killing herself but, of course, she drops it. What's horrible about this is for anyone else, literally anyone else this would be a sign of triumph and victory. To keep living. It would be a victory for Angela. It would be a victory for James. For her? It's a death sentence regardless. She will walk into Silent Hill and she will fight and she will die, regardless. A monster will find her - a monster wearing a green jacket, holding a photograph, will come to kill her. Her victory would be to kill herself, to end her very existence before it could truly begin. But she can't. Because she's so scared of being alone. She's scared of pain. She's scared of dying. She'd rather brave monster-infested streets than be alone. She'd rather find James, the man who will kill her, than be alone. All she wants is to not be alone. She wants to live. More than anything she wants to just live.

But she can't. She is not allowed to. No matter what, she will always be at the mercy of James and his monsters. She will always be forced to bear his burdens. She will always be the sacrificial lamb on his journey of redemption. She can never have a happy ending because she is never, ever meant to.

She is so desperate to live that she will do anything for it. Which, as I said, plays into her inability to have her own sense of self. She is needs James more than James will ever need her. He is quite, literally, the only reason she can exist. She needs James to want her, not just as a role to play, but because she wants to live. She can love James - she does love James in her own way - She can be good. She can be a good wife. A good mother, even. She can be anything James wants, just please love her and please don't make her be Mary. She is so desperate by time she's in the Labyrinth, by time she's at the hotel, she will literally be Mary if only so James will finally want her. There is so much I could say about her, but it's this complexity that I love about her as a character. Because Maria isn't a villain. She is kind, she is caring. She is brave and she is strong. She helped ghosts, caught in their own loop. She wanted to protect Laura, find her and keep her safe. She just wanted to live. I wanted to muse her because I wanted to explore this complexity, much of which we can not see in the game. I wanted to explore her outside of just her connection to James. And honestly, I just wanted to find a way for her to be happy.

I could say more about her as a character, but I'll end this there since then it's going into very rambly territory, lol.

[letsstaytuned]

💭

( @themosthatedbeing :3 ))

Send 💭 to see one of my muse’s earliest memories or a flashback to a pivotal moment in their life!

It was his wedding day and it should have been one of the happiest days of his life. He was there, dressed his best next to his bride to be at the alter, tuning out what the priest was saying. He was smiling though inside he just wanted to bolt out the doors past all the guests and his parents.

There was nothing inherently wrong with the bride. Her name was Jeannette and she was actually quite gorgeous. Luscious long chocolate brown locks of curly hair, big brown eyes one could get lost in, a beautiful smile... but he felt nothing for her.

It was an arranged marriage, one his parents had pressured him into. Jeannette was the daughter of a wealthy client of his father's law firm and, well, his own family was out of money. His father planned on him supplementing his failing business and his mother's socialite lifestyle.

And he was too weak to say no.

"Do you James Alexander Hardaway take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I do," Jamie replied snapping back to the moment.

"And do you Jeannette Marie Woodruff take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Yes, I do!"

The priest pronounced them husband and wife and then told him he could kiss the bride. Jamie lifted her veil and gave her a chaste kiss, fulfilling his obligation. The crowd cheered and clapped for them as the organ played the congratulatory song.

The couple held hands and turned to the crowd.

Jamie smiled widely, not because he was happy, but because his father always said you're never fully dressed without a smile.

[queryxecho]

L....little things? (I am forcing Tim to be Emotionally Vulnerable)

Little things (aka let rosie get up in her feels about your muses) // Accepting @volucerrubidus

You should have been an entomologist, really. Living the best life in a world so full of it. With thousands of different little variants. You could have even stayed in the criminal justice field with it, you know. So smart, DA's would have never let you stop being 'expert' at everything. But then again, you know all too well how sometimes 'justice' plays out. We've never asked how you ended up in the suit, but sometimes we wonder if you know how to live out of it now.

Like so many of the people we care for, you don't need a domino to have a mask. Always showing, but for what? And don't think we don't know it's fronting- it takes one to know one and all that.

We enjoy the cracks sometimes. Hints of romcom movies, and jokes that aren't just a shield. Moments when maybe you slip into an anger that we wonder if you tell yourself you're somehow not allowed to feel. You are.

You're so good at seeing everyone else. At being the person who notices everyone else. If you had a normal job, you'd be the person that remembers to get the cake on the coworker's birthday, and you're the person who takes the shift so Debra can go to her daughters graduation. It just so happens that in this universe, you let Mary be mean and still pick glass out of her, and let Eddie throw you a rubix cube once in awhile, or let Quinn rant about a day. In this universe, you let us give you a coded wild goose chase just for fun.

Thanks for chasing -XOXO Q&E

[urfavnegronerd]

dreaming of you- selena

trope: angst because i'm missing someone real hard rn so now its everyone's problem

published: july 20, 2023

warnings: sadness, possible errors (i edited it by myself so i did my best), tried rly hard to use regular punctuation, i haven't used y/n in a fic ever so for now we have a good ol character name that u can substitute if you'd like, alternates from past to present tense but let me know if i messed that up a bit so i can fix it for the sake of clarity, religious themes if you squint (a church, a saint and a prayer, nun too crazy mostly just honoring someone), i think that's it

pairing: oc (amari, gender neutral) x miles (1610 or e42, either works)

wc: 1.7k ish

cielito- little sky (at least that's how my family uses it), amor/ mi amor- love/ my love

Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you

Time is fleeting, the days turn into months into years and however long. The concept of time is funny because doctors will tell you that you have a new dermal layer about every month. So my body has forgotten and forgotten him. It’s strange because he– Miles, is always in the back of my mind, tucked away quietly for me and only me.  

It’s been three years since Miles’ passing. 

and I wish on a star 

If I were to talk about Miles, I would tell you about his voice and how smooth it would sound 

“Amari,” he calls, reaching out for me. I hum a response, distracted by the calculus assignment in front of me. if I had known, I would have given him a proper answer. 

“Are you busy?” 

“ ’s just a little bit of calc” I mumble. 

“Oh. Do you need help?” I shook my head in response, too prideful to ask that of him. I felt him slowly and gently pad his way over next to me, the carpeting absorbing the sound, and put his head on my shoulder. His curls tickled my pierced ears, the scent of his hair overwhelming my senses. The smell of pomegranate and honey, something so soft and kind to me, to my nose, to my body. If I could go back, I would smell his hair over and over again, to keep that part of him with me, always.  

“I just wanted to feel you, Mari,” the mumbles into my shoulder sent butterflies into my stomach, the same way they always did. 

After I would tell you about his voice, I would tell you about his mind. 

Miles had the most beautiful mind, a painting of beauty in a warzone. A small rose, reaching up from the cracks in the concrete, fighting nature with pure willpower, a colorful muse in the bleakest of places. His mind was the birthplace of such beauties, and treasures, treasures that I will keep tucked away in my head. For me and only me. Something to tell the world, to tell Brooklyn, that Miles Morales was not invisible. He was the opposite. He was vibrant and kind.

“Amari, baby, do you like this with drips?” he asked looking back at me, standing on his tip-toes, his hands smeared with yellow spray paint, trying to reach an impossible spot with no one's shoulders to stand on. I look up from my book, perched on a tattered couch somewhere beyond the train tracks. The light he would use to paint throwies and murals was blinding, he would squint with his whole face starting with his nose and traveling to his eyes, brows, and forehead. 

“Yeah. I like the drips a lot baby,” he smiled something goofy, something whole-hearted and warm, no doubt the byproduct of the love he had in his home. In his heart. 

Miles was soft, too. 

He would lie on his back on the floor, staring at the sky on the rooftop and listening to music. He turned his head to me and stared. He stared at me like I was the brightest light he had to look at, like out of all the constellations I burned the brightest. At that moment, he was Galileo and I was the sky. 

“Cielito,” he whispered, taking the wired ear bud out of my ear and gently turning my face towards him. “I’ve never looked at someone as beautiful as you, knowing how much they love me. and I like you so much that I can hardly breathe Amari, and it's like I have this thunder in me, in my veins. You make me nervous. but also calm, calm from lovin'. Mari, I love you.” 

Instinctively, I blush, bringing the sweatshirt up and over my mouth. Smiling something fierce, I laugh and press my forehead to his. 

“I love you, Miles,” I whisper, staring into his eyes. I had never once been so sure about something in my life. But I was sure about Miles, I was sure about his hazel eyes and tightly wound curls. Sure about the way he looked at me like I was the only thing he could see. I was sure about the comfort and calm in his eyes, a small pearl in our Brooklyn neighborhood. 

I was sure about the way he kissed me next, sure about how softly his hands held my face. Sure about the small and rough callouses on his wrists, and how no matter how rough the world saw Spiderman, he was soft. comfort, warmth, and all of which are attributes of a home. And the more that I think about it, he was home. 

That somewhere you are thinking of me too 

I slam my hand on my alarm with a vengeance, and a seething ache in my heart arises as I look around my room. Sage green walls once clad with photos and posters, now stare back at me, tangled in bed, empty. All signs of a life that were once reflected on these walls are gone. Boxes litter my floor, and shelves once full of trophies, plaques, books, and jewelry, are empty. The only remnant I have of this room being full of warmth is in my head, tucked away neatly next to the memories of Miles. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and tugging off my bonnet, I shimmy into cargo pants and a too-big hoodie. Miles’ hoodie. Folding up my pajamas, taking the sheets off my bed, and neatly folding them, I push the rest of my life into a box half full. 

I can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that fuels me, but I push the boxes into one corner and sit on the edge of my now-stripped bed. I stare at the fire escape, the cool metal being the home to several sleepless nights, endless secret kisses and so much more. Memories of a life that’s been loved. 

A surge of emotion hikes in my chest, something that I don’t want to deal with, at least not yet. I pull on an old and battered pair of hightops and hike down the fire escape one last time. One last stop at the bodega down the block for flowers and a bag of sweet plantain chips, lightly salted. One last time to shove my metro card into the reader. 

Waiting for the train, I look up and see the sticker Miles stuck on the ceiling rail. I don't think Jefferson had the heart to take them down after he passed. Memories of a boy was loved beyond belief. Tugging the hood of my sweater over my head, I enter the train and grasp the cool metal. Something to ground me at this moment that feels surreal. Something to hold on to, an island in a hurricane.  

Stepping off the train, a shiver runs down my spine. The air hangs thick, despite the cool summer weather and a feeling of sorrow creeps up my throat again. Pushing it down, I walk. Walk past the small costume shop and endless coffee chains and then I stop. The church hangs ominously over me like it’s betting on me to turn back. To run from this nightmare, this anger, this pain in my chest. 

Shakily, I step forward, swerving behind the building and into the graveyard. Miles is next to Peter Parker, and I huff at the irony of it all. Clutching the chips and carnations in my hand, I walk to the heavily decorated graves. Emotions tug at my chest and prick my eyes. I finally let it leak from my tear ducts and streak my face. 

“Hi Miles,” I look at his headstone, half expecting him to respond in his slight Brooklyn drawl. I half expect him to reply Hi, Mari clear as day, like he used to. He doesn’t. 

“I leave for school today. It’s far, in Rhode Island.” 

I pause, my face contorting violently before finally letting out a choked sob. 

“You know, your mom keeps telling me that you wouldn’t want to see me like this. That I should let it out. And I feel so angry about it. Not at Rio, of course. Angry because who the hell gave you the idea that you could leave? Leave before Rio got to scream at our graduation. I’m not angry at you Miles, not in the slightest. You tried,” 

My voice breaks.

“So hard. You fought so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I just thought I should stop by before I leave. I brought you bodega flowers, and the chips you like. You don’t have to eat them.” 

I clean his grave up a bit, grabbing dead flowers, deflated balloons, and any sort of unsightly thing off his grave. There are a few unlit prayer candles left, no doubt from Rio’s extensive visits, almost all of them being Saint Micheal. Jabbing my hands into all my pockets desperately, I pull out an almost-dead lighter to light the five remaining candles.  

“May eternal rest be granted onto him,” I light the first candle, “let perpetual light be cast onto him,” the second, “for my faithful and departed soul, Miles” the third, “o lord” the fourth, “let his soul be at rest” the fifth, “and let him know that I love him.” 

I wipe my eyes one final time, kiss my three middle fingers, and gently press them onto the cold and gray granite.  

“Always good to see you, Cielito.” 

I stare at his headstone one last time. 

“I love you, Miles. You don’t have to say it back, mi amor.” 

The only thing pushing me to go back home is the fact that I have a long drive ahead of me. I would stay curled next to his headstone for the rest of my life. It kills me to think that he’s alone down there, probably cold. During his funeral, I remember placing his headphones on his chest before the casket closed. His hands were ice cold, the makeup made a poor attempt at covering the small and delicate freckles that littered his cheeks. The finality of it is forever etched in my mind. 

Somewhere, I hope he’s listening to music. 

I climb back up my fire escape and tumble into my now-empty room. Sitting on the floor, I fold my knees to my chest and stare at the walls. 

and there's nowhere in the world I’d rather be, than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.

fin <3

a/n: i didnt finish the get-down on Netflix, but zekes line where he confesses his love to mylene makes me cry every time, i had a really intense astronomy phase when i was little so i loved writing the galileo line it might show up in future fics idk. leave comments, constructive criticism and pointers!! and send reqs! love you goats 🩷

-rae

[itchose]

in depth headcanon questions | @suhspiria asked: "if something bad happens, who will your muse call first?"

her oldest sister.   akilah has a good relationship with both of her mothers + her father,  along with her other sisters, but she’s closest to her oldest sister. family is really important to her regardless, so she doesn't really hesitate to be open with any of them about anything, but there's something about her oldest sister that really makes her feel seen and heard. they were always close, but they got much closer after she had her son + akilah started spending more time with them, helping her with whatever she needed and babysitting whenever she could. her oldest sister is the voice of reason in the family, which is where akilah gets a lot of that, and her advice has always been very crucial to her. plus, a lot of akilah's interests come directly from this sister, so it's just natural.

as for her friends, rachel was always her go to. rachel knew about her home life in ways she couldn't always be open with everyone else about, because while she understood her mothers were 'married,' it wasn't legal yet, so she still had to hold back with some people despite being proud of it herself. rachel was her person and it was a really big deal to her that they both got this opportunity to join varsity at similar times and would get to experience it all together.

in the wilderness, there are two people she turns to immediately, for different reasons. obviously she lost her best friend immediately once they crashed, + the added fact of her being the only jv teammate here because she was suddenly moved to varsity after allie's incident, she mostly felt like she was on her own out there. that didn't stop her from actively doing her part and trying to help where she was needed, though.

naturally, she gravitated towards mari because they were together when the plane went down. i don't think they really talked much before that. with everything the team said about rachel, it seems like jv + varsity teams didn't do a lot of intermixing, so she and mari really didn't know each other all that well yet. but she kind of immediately becomes her person out there because it's just natural; i don't think the same would've been true if they have that tragedy clinging them together. they might've talked a little more, but not the way they inevitably started to out there. mari is the person she feels safest to just be herself with and to speak up to if she needs to. she's the person she wants to protect the most, too, even if she doesn't always feel like she knows what she's doing. if she's suspicious about something, she's going to talk to mari first, even if mari may be more advanced than her when it comes to what she feels out there. that's very easily her person out there.

the other is tai. she always looked up to her before the crash; she was seemingly the best player and although akilah had long accepted that she'd never be great, she still wanted to learn from her. when it feels a little intimidating breaking through to this group of people that she doesn't necessarily know very well, who all already have their own dynamics with each other, tai is not someone she's intimidated by ( no matter what tai may assume from others. ) ironically, most of the time, it seems to be akilah who gives her advice out there, but i think that's really validating to her anyway, to know that she can understand her enough to be able to offer help that she's not really getting anywhere else because akilah knows, specifically, how to reach her. still, she'd be the one she went to if she was worried about something, because she knows tai could do the same in return for her. akilah votes with tai to go to the lake, and she volunteers to go with her on the excursion. she trusts tai's instincts, so if something bad happens, she wants to hear from her first.

[blackinnonism]

can u write a blackinnon fanfic where she and sirius are matchmaking jily but realise their feelings towards each other x

Look, i know this took me awhile, but i'm back on the marauders era trend and I will be here to stay for awhile! Send me prompts or send me whatever you want and please let's keep this ship sailing<3

i'm not sure how much i like this one but I hope you do like it as much as i did writing it. I might need to practice more but here it is, my fic after awhile.

He was rolling his eyes as Marlene went over the top once again convincing Lily about James’ qualities as they sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. Sirius swears the blonde doesn’t know this thing called subtlety, the red-haired girl looks at her bestfriend amusedly though. “How much did Potter even pay you to say all of these, Marls?” The head girl chuckled with a shake of her head. Marlene pouted. “What? I just think it will be nice for you to actually give James a chance, it has been seven years after all, Lils!” The other beater of the Gryffindor team argued. “McKinnon, honestly, I think Evans could have said yes all those years ago, quit it.” Both the witches looked at the raven-haired wizard with a look of surprise, even Remus and Peter whipped their heads at Sirius.

The blonde’s expression changed from surprised to annoyance. “Aren’t you supposed to back up your best mate on this?” She challenged but all Sirius did was shrug. “They’re both old enough to make decisions for themselves.” Soon, James Potter himself took a seat next to Sirius, fresh from shower. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain always takes his time during days that they have practice and comes in late. “What are we talking about?” The headboy asked. “Nothing…” Lily answered off handedly and focused on her plate, avoiding James’ eyes. Sirius immediately changed the subject to other things and the evening went on as usual. The rest of the students all filed out the Great Hall going in different directions as the dinner comes to a close. “Are you coming?” Lily asked Marlene as Mary and Dorcas were already standing up. The blonde remained seated as if taking her sweet time finishing her treacle tart. “Nah, I’ll see you all up in the tower.” The redhead looked at the blonde with suspicion but didn’t say anything else. “Okay…See you later then.” 

The marauders are usually the last ones to leave the Gryffindor table as well and Marlene has been giving Sirius dirty looks the whole evening. “Stop glaring at me.” The animagus told her as he finally took a seat next to her, now that her friends are no longer around, his back leaning back on the table. “I think it’s time for us to be going too…” Remus said standing up and looking around the almost empty Great Hall. “You guys go on ahead. Blondie here needs some one on one.” Sirius said with a mischievous grin which earned him another glare from the lioness. “You two had been spending way too much time together lately.” James mused but stood up as well ready to go with Remus and Peter. “Catch you later, Pads.” Sirius just nodded at his friends and focused his attention on Marlene again. 

“What the fuck was that, Black?” the witch snarled as soon as their friends are all gone. “What?” he asked innocently. “We agreed we will speed things up for those two already.” She huffed. “Your tactic is clearly not working, I suggest we do the opposite and let Lily realize what she has been missing by acting nonchalant about it.” Sirius stated. The suggestion made sense but Marlene had doubts about it, afterall, she was very much into this little project they started a few weeks ago. Sure, it started with just some drunken conversation about how better it will be if James and Lily will just get on with it and snog already, that way they won’t have to watch them throwing each other those looks of longing. They also agreed that if the two actually started dating maybe it will help James relax on the pitch too which will be beneficial for both of them. Being both beaters of the team, they’re the most extensively worked during practice.

However, during those weeks that they have conspired to bring the two closer, Marlene had sensed something changing in her too. Sirius Black had always been gorgeous, everyone with two working eyes can see that but she never really paid that much attention, he was afterall never settled down and flirts as much as he can especially if it works on his favor. He was just a friend, a housemate, and her partner at the pitch. But the more she looks at his stormy eyes and the way he leans in to whisper another sneaky plan to get their bestfriends together, Marlene finds herself having butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t even want to acknowledge it. He is Sirius bloody Black for merlin’s sake. But then, no one has control on how they’d feel right? “So, are you saying we should stop then with this?” Marlene asked. 

“That’s not what I said, what i said is we should change our plan of attack.” Sirius said with mirth in those grey orbs as he meet her blue ones. As much as she hated to admit it, there was relief she felt deep inside. This means she still has an excuse to spend time with him and that alone made her smile. “Okay, fine…let’s do it your way, but if this fails, we’ll do it my way again, yeah?” She told him, her usual bossy tone apparent. Sirius chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, McKinnon. We already know your plans don’t work.” He teased and she hit his arm playfully which made the wizard laugh. What she didn’t know was Sirius had already let go of this notion that they can even get those two together. Lily can be very stubborn even though everyone can already see her softening up to James. The once Black heir was just continuing the pretense so that he can actually spend more time with Marlene. The girl never gave him the time of the day in the past. Always treating him as just another bloke she conversed with, to say that she had friendzoned him was an understatement and he had been wondering for years why. When they came up with this plan, Sirius saw the chance to actually get close and somehow learn why she never seem to even look at him with interest. Not that it’s the only reason why she caught his eye too. Marlene has always been a looker, but she also has the wit and that athleticism that she puts to good use in quidditch that just renders anyone spellbound including him. 

“Ready to go up?” He asked, looking at her plate with food she probably won’t be eating anymore. “Yeah…” She nodded with a smile. “Alright.” Sirius got up, offering his hand to help her to her feet. It was not something he usually does and Marlene also looked at the hand that was offered with a pleasant surprise on her face. “Developing manners, Black?” The blonde teased with a quirk of her brow but took his hand nevertheless. “Don’t get used to it.” He bantered back, liking how her hands felt soft on his. Now on her feet, she expected for him to let her hand go but he didn’t. Instead, he continued holding her hand, gently intertwining their fingers together and Marlene’s ears felt hot as she felt herself blush. It’s really happening, Sirius Black was holding her hand. “You mind?” He asked, looking at her with an expression that was so foreign on his face. She had never seen him like this, almost unsure and afraid she will say that she does mind. “No…it’s fine.” She assured him, giving his hand a soft squeeze. They exchanged shy smiles, which both are never known for and headed for the door. Maybe this could be the start of something new for the two lions. 

[lemonhemlock]

There was a knock on her door "My lady a gift from Prince Aemond has arrived for you" the gurad said. Maris sighed, putting her brush down on her table as she got up to retrieve the gift she couldn't help but think 'of course she should have expected the gift to come soon, he truly doesn't waste any time with sending her gift does he?'. The voices outside her door snapped her out of her thoughts. As she opened the door she saw her father standing there beside the gurad looking at the gift in his hand excitedly.

"Father please clam down" she clamly said while rolling her eyes at his antics. Truly you would think the gift came for you with how excited he was acting.

"Dear daughter of mine I'm merely just excited for you! You must open the gift immediately it is from the prince after all". He replied excitedly.

She answered with a little sort while taking the gift from the gurad. She wondered what her prince sent her this time, last it was a mans head maybe this time its the mans eyes she thought to herself but couldn't help but get amused at the mere mention of eyes from her prince, the mere word had so much of their hostory behind it. After all it were the eyes of Lucerys Velaryon that got them betrothed.

"Oh! Don't forget to tell me what he sent you and what he wrote to you!"

"Don't worry father I will". Her words seemed to please her father as he walked away from her room with the guard likely telling him to get the musicians so they could write another song about her prince and her.

She closed the door behind her went went straight to her bed to open her latest gift. It was box not quite big and was light, definitelynot a heart this time she thought. She couldn't think what her prince would have sent her this time.

She quickly opened the box and paused. How curious she couldn't help but think. She slowly and carefully picked up the white crown out of the box. It was strange and quite like how a normal crown would look like. It was heavy in her hands but seemed to be made of a wood like material. It was beautifully crafted, a white crown with yellow jewels embedded in it. She put it to her side and looked back into the back just like all the other times this gift too came with a letter.

"My dear Maris, I do hope you enjoyed my gift this time it is the gift I spent the most time preparing. It is a crown made of a stags bones. I hunted the stag myself and skinned its skin off. It took me days to clean the bones and craft them into a crown. I even put those yellow jewels you find so beautiful into it. I hope you this gift was to your liking.

I also wished to tell you that I have spoken to my grandsire and there should a letter arriving shortly to stroms end asking your fathers permission to allow you to go to Oldtown. I know how much you wish you learn and my mother side of the family is more than excited to welcome you specially Daeron. I wish to the best and will come to take you to Oldtown my self with my last courting gift.

With love yours truly, Prince Aemond Targaryen"

She couldn't help but chuckle as she put the crown on her head, oh her sweet prince always so thoughtful for her she mused.

She walked to towards the painting in her room and pused against the picture of the apple at the edge of the tree. She heard something and pushed the painting aside. There in the center of the room laid a man cut in pieces carefully preserved to stop the body from rotting away. Who the man was she knew not nor did she care too.

She walked up to the man and looked at his body. There was only one piece left to finally finsihing him, his eyes, the very thing that started their love shall end their courtship. How romantic.

She should start preparing for her soon departure to Oldtown after all she won't be able to come back as soften she thoyght to herself as she skipped out of the secert room humming to herself as the crown on her head shined with the morning lifting reflecting off of the jewels in it.

you did it. you managed to condense all our maris headcanons into one mini-fic. congratulations, anon, they shall write songs of your bravery 👁👁👁

[lucysarah-c]

Lucy

I need urgent help!!!

I am doing a rebrand of my fashion style, and I would like your help. I am aiming for a girly type of style. Lana del ray aesthetic, dark/light academia, plaid skirt, dollycore. If you know other names tell me about them please.

You seem like that type of girl, which lead me to ask you about this. Could you help me with how to build a closet and where to find brands that are targeted to this style.

To be honest, please just share all the brands you know. Or how to find these types of clothes.

Hope you are having a wonderful day.

Hi Love! What's been in your heart lately?

I tried to reply to this as fast as I "adult-ly" could and I highlight the part of "adult-ly" because I had to be an adult today and it sucks.

OMG! Just the single thought of you thinking in me about style already brings tears to my eyes. Thank you so so much!

I adore ... that my style can even transfer the physical barrier of me not posting pictures about me but yet all of you know my style hahaha I adore it. I'm 100% an "old money/dark/light academia/preppy/cottagecore" girl.

But I'm also a student with a budget so hear me out hahaha my dream is one day open a "fashion/makeup" youtube or instagram but AFFORDABLE. People dream of running for president, I dream of helping other poor students to look fashionable. It's not much but it's a humble job.

Ok I don't know much about "brands" but I adore the style, the vibes and some of the pics they put together in this brand called "Miss Patina". Look it's quite expensive BUT BUT heard me out. I think it's expensive because "western" fashion isn't about dark academia, preppy, sweet dolly style. Therefore you should look into a certain country that basically their style is about that. Yes, I'm talking about Korea. Even if you don't speak "korean" like me, you can try to translate "dark academia style haul" really badly in google, search in youtube and look for videos of online-shopping. Even if you don't understand what they are saying, you can use "Miss patina" and other "expensive" brands for inspiration and then search for affordable options online with this method. I don’t know where you are from but Koreans, sadly, have a lot of economical problems and their appearance is quite important in the society. So they usually have more affordable nice looking clothes that fit this style.  I do this a lot, Korean clothes aren't maybe "the best" in quality but the style is "chef kiss" and usually they are quite good.

Also, adding to this. If you're going to "redo" your wardrobe, think about what you would wear EACH DAY EVERYDAY. And maybe it is worth investing in some better quality, better reviewed pieces. For example, I've 4 pairs of good quality shoes (I can't recommend the brand because it's from Argentina but) 2 oxfords (brown and deep purple), 1 loafer in black  (a classic) and one pair of mary janes in a nude colour. I've had them for like 4 years, the loafers for example, and since they are good quality they look really good. Then I've 2 coats, one black and one deep red and I adore it lol. One french coat in a nude is water resistant for more autumn/spring vibes when it's not too cold. These are more what I consider ... basics in my style so I am happy I spend money on them. Other stuff like button-up shirts, turtle neck shirts, sweaters etc. I know that I'll be running to take the train to my classes, etc. I don't want to "care" if I sweat them on a day that gets hotter or I use them and the wood kinda loses its quality. Plus, I think that replacing certain pieces of your wardrobe to fit maybe a trend of the winter that you like etc is good.

Also, think about what colours you like. There was a year I was obsessed with "stripes" and I brought a couple of sweaters with stripes. You can always buy some fun pieces that you like even if it doesn't fit "the style" you're going for. I have a sweater with KITTENS on it AND I ADORE IT. I don't care if it doesn't fit my "dead muse of a depressed poet", I love my kittens. It makes me feel good, I like it, it's enough for me. It's important that you feel yourself in your clothes.

With all that said and done, if you're still struggling to find maybe inspiration pages for outfits or even explore new brands... search in google a couple of times "preppy style, dark academia style," or send a couple of whatsapp about it and believe me that the algorithm will do it's thing LMAO I always do that when I can't find what I want.

Fashion recommendations? This is 100% MY personal opinion, I don't hold the truth... less is more (ESPECIALLY in jewellery), there's no such thing as too much black and, as my nona (grandma) would say "you carry the clothes don't let the clothes carry you," Own what you wear, own your worth and you could be wearing sweatpants and make the world turn heads for you. "make your daily life your own runway"

Hope this help! Kisses!

[mafiaheiress]

this is a mafia & crime inspired role play blog for original character 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎. 30-35 year old heiress, born into a notably powerful ╱ wealthy family. the lucianos have carved quite a name for themselves in new jersey & new york. highly triggering content should be expected, 21+ only. ( 𝙸𝙽𝙳.  𝙿𝚁𝙸𝚅.  & 𝚂𝙴𝙻. ) ‘93, she╱her. established january 2023.

── HEAVILY AFFILIATED WITH @mafiamde.

the lucianos. │ headcanons. │ character study.

I.  before even following,  please make sure you are a decent human being.  in other words,  BE KIND !!!  if you start drama,  offend others,  are transphobic,  homophobic,  racist,  or anything along those lines,  you will be hard blocked.  i don’t have time for any of that disrespect in my life.

II.  i am a  MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE  roleplay blog who thrives off of mun to mun interactions and  plotting.   i will not follow back minors,  only 21+.  i am not here to gain a high follower count.  intention of sending you a follow is a way of showing that i am interested in writing with your muse.

III.  medium  ACTIVITY  but could be  somewhat sporadic at times.  i work full time and have a busy schedule when i get home.   if we roleplay together,  please never feel rushed.  i want to create a safe,  friendly,  and drama free atmosphere for everyone.

IV.  when it comes to  SHIPPING  our muses,  i’m all about chemistry.  as much as  i adore shipping,   i prefer plotting before it gets to that point.  that way it feels more mutual than pushed.  always feel free to message me if you want to further explore any dynamics.

V.  as far as TRIGGERS go,  i don’t have many.  however,  if you roleplay rape,  incest,  or any other disturbing content,  you will be hard blocked.

VI.  if you have any  QUESTIONS,  please always feel free to reach out to me through messages or just ask for my discord.   i appreciate you taking the time to go through these simple guidelines !

𝑨 𝑩 𝑶 𝑼 𝑻 ;

name: Isabella Marie Luciano.

date of birth: November 27th; Sagittarius.

age: 30 - 35 ( plot oriented. )

gender: female.

sexuality: bisexual ( closeted. )

occupation: works in the family firm.

nationality: Italian - American.

parents: Vincenzo Luciano, ( father. ) Maria Luciano, ( mother. )

siblings: Vincenzo Jr. ( Vinny ) Luciano, ( eldest brother. ) Salvatore ( Sal ) Luciano, ( middle brother. ) Dante Luciano, ( youngest brother of the three. )

Isabella is the youngest child of Vincenzo and Maria Luciano. Born into a life of crime, money, and power where one wrong move can end an entire heir. The Lucianos are a powerful family who are both feared and admired. Isabella was kept in the dark from her family’s illegal affairs for quite awhile. However, being the smart and perceptive young woman that she is, allowed the female to uncover the truth. Her father, Vincenzo was not only a successful businessman, but a ruthless mob boss as well.

Vincenzo loves his daughter beyond measure and is extremely protective when it comes to her. He wants to ensure that Isabella will always be taken care of - even when he’s not around anymore. Part of the reason why the mobster has arranged for Matteo Falcone to marry his daughter. Matteo comes from a powerful family with mafia ties as well. He respects the Lucianos and is absolutely head over heels for Isabella. The only issue is that she does not want any part in an arranged marriage, no matter how devilishly handsome Matteo is. Isabella prefers the freedom to choose and marry whoever her heart desires.

Personality wise, Isabella can best be described as stubborn, brave, witty, bratty at times, but overall has this kind hearted nature to her that automatically draws people in. She does not use last name to her advantage, but rather hides it from others to avoid making anyone feel belittled or threatened.

[howredemptionwaswon]

“Mrs. Adler? When did you decide that Mr. Adler was ‘The One’ for you?”

There wasn't a single day that passed that Sadie didn't think about her Jakey. Every little thing reminded her of him, be it a song being sung or a random object they once shared a laugh over. Her love for Jake consumed her existence even after his death.

She rarely had anyone from the group approach her to inquire about her late husband. Initially, Abigail was the one who checked on her the most, followed by occasional inquiries from Arthur. Eventually, conversations about Jake gradually diminished. It was somewhat bittersweet for Karen that now, after all this time, she was the one asking about him. The way the question was posed made her believe there was an underlying motive behind it. It was clear within the group that she and Sean were growing extremely close, which wasn't necessarily a negative thing. However, she struggled with finding a way to tell Karen what she wanted to hear without tearing at her own heartstrings.

" Pullin' out the big questions are ya? " Sadie questioned, then proceeded to find a chair and sit down. This was bound to take some time and effort. " I don't know how you can sum somethin' like that into words. It's just somethin' you feel. " So this already wasn't starting out the greatest. " My Jake and I, we were like best friends. We brought the good out in each other and a day just came when I couldn't picture havin' a life he warn't a part of. That's when I knew. " Karen found a chair for herself and sat down next to Sadie, eager to listen to her explanation. She remembered the days gone by, when poor Mrs. Adler was a new widow, openly grieving for the loss of her husband at the hands of those damned O'Driscoll Boys. It seemed like she would never recover, but gradually, she did, and hell, she became a spitfire in her own right. She ditched the skirt for trousers and became more vocal and bloodthirsty.

"Best friends, huh?" Karen mused. "Back when you were brought into our gang, you probably saw me wanting to throttle Sean more than anything."

He was loud, obnoxious, annoying - sometimes he'd be sleeping during guard duty, or whittling when he should be doing chores, flirting with the girls at camp, or telling silly stores at the campfire with the boys… but behind all that, there was a certain charm about the Irishman that kept her anchored to him. When he was almost killed during a botched job at Rhodes, she realized how much she cared deeply for him, and never wanted to leave his side. The group splitting away from Dutch, and being able to live their own lives, helped her focus on the fact that, well, she loved him. Sean was the only man she could truly care for.

"If Tilly and Mary-Beth were here, they'd be teasin' me 'til the cows came home," Karen remarked, and it was followed with a snort. "Here I am, sounding all… romantic about Sean of all people, when they were the ones always going on about their fantasies about their hopes and dream weddings. You know, women's rights, women voting - hell, I'd just settle for being married to Sean, taking his last name, and makin' him happy as his wife, if he'd let me. But Mrs. Adler, would it be crazy if I were to ask him to marry me?"

Sadie believed that her love for Jake was unparalleled. Overcoming the pain of his death was a lengthy process, and even now, it occasionally brings her sorrow. However, through their relationship, she learned that love is not limited; it has the capacity to develop and transform with time. It taught her that the heart possesses an extraordinary capability to expand and accommodate new individuals who leave a lasting impact on our lives. Each day got a little easier than the day before.

Sadie knowingly grinned. " Yeah I saw, but I also saw through it. It's easy to see the signs when you've been in that situation before. Hell, I think Arthur and I were the first ta notice there was a little more going on with the two of ya. "

Sadie had expressed her gratitude towards the individuals in their small, tight-knit circle. Each person played a unique role in helping her overcome her past and regain her strength. Arthur's heroic act of rescuing her from the O'Driscoll Boys created a debt that she knew she could never fully repay. Nevertheless, she vowed to stand by his side and assist him in any way possible. This commitment extended to everyone in their group. She had managed to endure, and maybe someday she would have the chance to experience love once more. Whether that day ever arrived or not, she found solace in simply witnessing the abundance of joy from the others surrounding her.

" Don't worry yourself too much about what they'd think. Look at it this way, while they're stuck fantasizing you've got the real deal. " Sadie reached over and patted her on the knee. Her next question however had Sadie's brow raising. " I mean while it's always been custom for the man to ask the woman, if it's something you really want I don't see no harm in it. I say go for it cause we ain't exactly traditional folk here. "

Mrs. Adler had a point. They weren't the most traditional folk. Rules be damned. They were lucky to stay one step ahead of the Pinkertons. Danger lurked around every corner, and Karen didn't want to live another day with this nagging regret.

"Damn it all," she huffed, tugging at the edge of her blouse. "You're right. I need to do this. After all, we only tell each other we love one 'nother when we're drunk. This has to count for real, but without the booze."

Karen reached over and offered the other blonde a warm hug. "Thank you so much, darlin'!"

She couldn't imagine going through what Mrs. Adler had: losing a husband the way she had at the hands of the O'Driscoll Boys. Lord knows what would've happened if she lost Sean in any way, shape, or form. But she wouldn't think that. Right now, she was going to find something to propose to Sean with.

She searched about the area for jewelry that would be suitable for the likes of Sean. He wasn't a man who was into jewelry at all. If anything, he was into whittling, but she'd yet to see him carve anything. Too bad she didn't see a ring anywhere that happened to be carved out of wood.

With a disappointing growl, Karen swiftly returned to Sadie, and asked, "You mind helping me find something to propose to Sean with? I'm too impatient to wait around. I got the words I wanna say, but I don't want to go to him empty-handed."

Sadie chuckled, amused by Karen's sudden burst of determination. " Well, ain't that just like you, Karen. Always ready to charge ahead. Alright, let's see what we can rustle up for that Irish fool of yours. " She stood up, brushing off her trousers. " Knowing Sean, he'd probably be happy with a bottle cap if it came from you. "

The two women set off, scanning the ranch for anything that might serve as a makeshift engagement token. After coming up empty handed something dawned on Sadie and her eyes lit up. " Hold on a minute, come with me. " She said, while leading Karen to her room. Once inside Sadie reached for something tucked away in her bedside table drawer. She pulled out a small wooden box, its surface worn smooth by time. Opening it carefully, she revealed a simple silver band inside. " This was Jake's father's ring, " Sadie explained, her voice soft with memory. " Jake always meant to wear it, but his fingers were too big. Maybe it's meant for Sean. "

Sadie moved over to Karen. " And before you even say you can’t take this… " She pressed the ring into Karen's palm. " It's been sitting here gathering dust. Jake would've wanted it to be used for something good, something that brings happiness. He would want you to have it and I want you to have it. The ring or gift isn't going to mean as much to him as what you say to say does. So keep that in mind. And if you find something else between now an then, give him both. "

Karen's mouth was agape when the ring was given to her. It was truly an honor to be blessed with a gift bestowed with such memories. She didn't feel worthy! But clearly she was, otherwise, Sadie wouldn't have gone through the trouble with helping her.

"My goodness, Mrs. Adler," she said in a teary voice. "I… I don't know what to say…!"

She sniffled, hating how emotional she quickly became. Karen was normally one of the toughest of the gals, but when it came to situations closest to the heart she was quick to fall apart when nobody was looking, or beer was involved--mostly the latter. Sadie's words struck deep in Karen's heart, that she swiftly gave the other woman a fierce hug, even patting her on the back.

"Oh, thank you so much, it means the world to me!"

After a couple more sniffles, Karen sighed heavily, and pulled away. She used the back of her hand to dab away her eyes. After clearing her throat, she said, "Now, I'm going to put this ring in a safe place. I'll plan on how and when to propose to that silly boy. I promise it's gonna be soon, so ya'll won't be waitin' long to hear an announcement from us!"

Karen smiled at Sadie, waved, before she turned around and dashed off to head back to finish the rest of her chores.

[auniverseforgotten]

Salieri and Mozart with 2, 6 and 8 for the ship game

YAHOOOO TY FOR THE ASK TEA!!!

Ship meme is here for those who wanna do it themselves or send any in!! Read more just in case hmmm

2. Who gets up to cook at 2am?

Oooo here we go with me never able to decide anything again!! Realistically I think they both do all sorts of kitchen bullshit at 2am BUT FOR SPECIFICALLY waking up at 2am and cooking it's definitely Mozart. Rolls out of bed and wanders off to cook half asleep, almost sets the kitchen on fire but it's fine he has his food stop yelling Antonio the flames are simply Ambience. He's not a bad cook he is just Fully out of it

For Salieri I think it's more when he can't sleep or when he's stressed out he'll go to the kitchen at all hours to just bake and bake and bake. Yes I'm a stress baker why do you ask. If he needs to take up a lot of time, like if he goes back to sleep it will be Bad, he'll probably make something like Panettone which takes HOURS and in between the three multi-hour proofs he'll bake other, simpler things.

Also think it would be cute for Mozart to stumble into the kitchen still practically asleep because the bed is COLD now, Antonio, what is so IMPORTANT to leave him to the COLD and then maybe Salieri will make him a snack if he doesn't whine too much.

6. Who is always, always running late?

Mozart 100%. You'd think their past lives would make them both good at keeping on time with things, but that's the thing. Nothing is gonna be as high stakes as concert for the emperor and his court and while Mozart can definitely be quick if it's an emergency his bar for emergency is VERY HIGH. He's never late to anything for Marie [which occasionally becomes an arguing point which is resolved by him also trying very hard to never be late for anything with Salieri.]

Salieri is designated Mozart Collector if they need him actually on time for something, he will go and drag his ass out of bed or off the piano and physically carry him to wherever they need to go if need be. Mozart laughs about it the entire time bcus he can never take anything seriously [until he has to].

OCCASIONALLY this backfires bcus if it's something Salieri doesn't really want to go to it gives Mozart the chance to coerce him into a nap or composing or just spending time together, and then you're down TWO composers. At that point you've just lost them unless you can convince a child servant to go fetch Salieri [or Hessian bcus Lobo PUPPY] but even then sometimes it simply becomes Bigger Naptime or Putting on a Production for The Children. RIP Master of Chaldea.

8. Who is a morning person? Who is a night owl?

Salieri is definitely a night owl. But like he's a night owl the same way I am; his productivity is best at night and he feels a lot freer at night but he still can and will drag himself out of bed at way too early o'clock because he has to, and the obligation of that gets him awake every time. This does mean he is chronically sleep deprived tho bcus no matter how little sleep he gets he WILL get up to meet his obligations. I don't think anyone could even mistake him for a morning person his eye bags are one of his most prominent [and very good] features in my mind [also crows feet,,,,,lil wrinkles,,,,yes good,,LET HIM BE TIRED AND HAVE SOME WRINKLES FATE YOU COWARDS]. This man is OVER TWO HUNDRED YEARS OLD and TIRED put him in a HOME.

MOZART meanwhile everyone assumes he's a morning person because if he needs to be somewhere in the morning he is up and annoyingly cheerful and awake but no it turns out what he is is a "i have not slept for two weeks because I've been working on a new piece and now that I'm a servant I am less constrained than I was in my physical body" type of person. Consistently working himself to the bone and to a degree that he genuinely can't help, he just gets taken away by the muse and he's stuck there until it's done. Salieri is usually the one to pick up the pieces/carry him back to their rooms/physically drag him away from whatever he is doing to actually REST.

With their power combined they have a completely non-functioning sleep schedule that is destroyed every time they decide to collaborate on a piece together.

THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE ASK THIS WAS SO FUN WAHOO

[ducknotinarow]

[BuddyRhodes]

Buddy, of course, was ecstatic when Rhodes brought up the idea of the three of them being together, together. Buddy had always had a crush on them, and Charlie, and they had wanted to tell them - it was just finding that right time to do it. Though, it seemed like Rhodes beat them to it.

Not that Buddy cared, their grin bright and feathers fluffing. In their little giddy freak out though, Buddy hung up the phone. They didn't mean to, they just, were dealing with a whole lot of emotions hitting them in one go.

Buddy was quick to call them back, thankfully,

"Sorry sorry!" Buddy exclaimed, "I just, okay I just wow!" Buddy chuckled, "Sorry Rhodes, it's just... well, I kinda also felt the same about you, and Charlie," They explain, "For a while actually, I was just, yanno, wanting to find a good way to tell you two how I felt..."

Sure, they were a tiny bit disappointed that this was how this went down, but, Buddy got over it just as quickly, smiling brightly at their phone, aware of how much they were blushing, and how they looked like a fluff ball thanks to their feathers,

"If it wasn't obvious, that's a yes Rhodes; I do wanna give us three being together, together, a chance."

| muse interaction

Sure, confessing romantic feelings was always tied with a lot of emotions stirring around, a million thoughts centered around what ifs and fears even. Even more so for Rhodes. This was a bit of big step for him. Rhodes had come to learn he was gay after all some clear interest in the appearance of the musicians he loved so much. The first school dance that came up it seemed only natural to Rhodes not to ask a girl but at the time a best friend of his. But with how he saw things between his parents fall apart? How they came to hate each other even? How the thought that true love wasn't forever in the end?

Guess you could say relationships had a sour taste in his beak. Not like he stayed away from it all together. Just never found a reason to form a relationship. What was the point? When it was just going to end and if you stayed to long? Ended in flames and you hating each other. It just sounded awful. Dating was something for fun and best short lived. A week was too short and three was too close to forming a relationship. Two weeks max was kind of Rhodes comfort zone if he dated someone for a while at best it was just a date here and there. Though he kind of drifted away from even that all together. Becoming listless, he guesses. When his drum set and guitar were taken away from him. Just going through the motions from there.

And now? Looking at the beautiful new guitar, jade green with his name even engraved into it. And that once more gave him that stupid fluttering in his chest. Which didn't help, considering Buddy just hung up on him.

"...was that a bad thing to say?" Rhodes wonder out loud. Had that hail Mary he just gone for been too big a risk? Did he just cause his biggest fear? And here he thought it was going to be his messed up family that would chase them away not his feelings. "Fuck" Rhodes could only express it that way as he dropped his head to the screen of his phone. Wondering how he could have done something so stupid. And partly wondering how he just got rejected that hard. Not out of an ego trip but because this was Buddy! Arguably the nicest bird to just ever exist! And he doubts it got a thing to do with Buddy being an android. "is it weird one of the two birds I like it a robot?" before he could even think further on that idea as some comfort to what he assumed was a rejection his phone once again started to ring. Rhode eyes blew wide seeing it was Buddy and answered as fast as was possible.

"uhh..yo" Yo? Well it was as all he could muster his beak to say in that moment, his mouth feeling dry suddenly or his tongue was suddenly swelling. He felt his heart was lodging into his throat even.

"Sorry sorry!" Buddy exclaimed, "I just, okay I just wow!"

Rhodes could feel his need to breath but he could seemed to get himself to do it in case he breathed to loud to hear what Buddy had to say. Focused on the tone in their chuckle though seemed to be a good sign?

"Sorry Rhodes, it's just... well, I kinda also felt the same about you, and Charlie,"

Rhodes breath catches in his throat at Buddy's own confession, it wasn't them saying no or anything Buddy was on the same page. They liked him and Charlie in the same way.

"For a while actually, I was just, yanno, wanting to find a good way to tell you two how I felt..."

"Oh, heh sorry for stealing your thunder there Bubbles." Rhodes says, unable to control the smile breaking through even his speech at the time. How could he not feel excited though? Rhodes honestly still had some doubts but he liked to think he would be wrong.

"If it wasn't obvious, that's a yes Rhodes; I do wanna give us three being together, together, a chance."

A chance was all he had to use to convince himself to give this a shot. He usually held a two week rule but maybe a month was better since he only saw them on the weekends and there would be two this time around? Maybe that would make it work? Should he voice his worry and doubts? Was it lying if he didn't? No its not a lie at that point right? just a worry? who didn't worry about starting a relationship with a friend after all? Sure you get along and all but how do you know its gonna work out unless you try? double so for a less than traditional relationship he figures. Maybe he's thinking to much right now.

He can't help it though. He wonders if he'll ever be able to really trust in a relationship.

"Yeah, lets give it a try." it's not lie if he don't speak it right ? looking towards his treasure guitar though. A deep jade green his favorite color. They didn't know a thing about them but they got one he wanted most. They even put his name on it, they put their money together just for him. How could he not give them his trust? Least enough to take this step. Even if it scared the shit out of the usually chilled Rhodes. "Think we should talk date then since I brought it up first only fair I treat ya?"