#i wouldn’t want strangers calling me a loser bc I’ve no projects lined up

[neutron-stars-collision]

I just wish people online would stop giving work advice and ruthlessly criticising professional and private lives of actors they don’t know in person. Just that.

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so i’m writing/creating my own btd murderer character. i’m still fleshing out his details and story, but i wrote an introduction for him and mc? if anyone wants to give it a read or whatever. i’ll post the link but also post it here

link also posting below here in case the link doesnt work or something it looks better in the doc bc of the fonts and shit but yknow

Happenstance ( mc pov )

Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt―.

Hearing the ever familiar whirring, eyelids gradually opened, staring blankly at the white wall of their dorm room. Judging from how lit the room was, it could be surmised that it was already morning. Releasing a puff of air, eyes returned to their shut state, burrowing further into the case that sheathed the pillow embraced within their arms. It was far too early to be awake… Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt―.

Having forgot about the continuous vibrations, a grunt was released, shifting in bed as hands blindly attempted to find the source beneath the mass of sheets. Why was the phone unable to just stay in one place throughout the night? Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt―.

Annoyance further pressed, their body lurched upwards, haphazardly throwing the sheets back to expose the bed. No phone. Reaching towards their surplus of pillows, each one would be raised, searching for the damned phone. Still, no phone. What the hell?

Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt. Vzzt―.

Eyes slowly went towards the foot of the bed, arms sliding beneath the previously thrown sheets. After a moment of blindly swinging their arms around, the back of their hand finally hit a glass surface. Victorious, fingers clutched around the mobile device and yanked it free. How did this happen so frequently. Vibrating in their clutches, eyes stared at the now lit up screen, finger sliding across the screen to shut the alarm off. Once gone, only one thing remained: time. 9:45 AM.

❝ ―Fuck! I’m gonna be late! ❞

Flinging themselves out of bed, their usual morning routine would be cut in half. Throwing on a simple hoodie would have to do. After running a quick brush through their bed head and brushing their teeth, they returned to their work desk, tossing their school books in, all while attempting to stuff their feet inside their shoes. Laces be damned.

Slinging the book back over their shoulder, they briskly exited the dorm room. It was mid-winter, a brisk, cool wild hitting their face as they sped walked across campus. Did they look rather silly? Perhaps, but after being consistently late for this class twice this week already, it had been a personal goal to arrive on time―early, even. So much for that. College campuses were essentially set up to doom any and all late comers with how spacious they were.

Approaching the quad, a chilled hand reached within the pocket of their hoodie and pulled out their cell phone.

9:56 AM.

❝ Of course... ❞ An exasperated sigh pushed its way through their airway, eyes gazing towards the building which held the cafeteria. ...Well, if they were going to be late already, what was a few extra minutes? With how this day had started, a pick-me-up would surely be needed, and coffee was a tremendous ally. Changing course, they now had a new mission.

Pulling the door towards them, warm air melting the frigid layer that encompassed their skin. After observing that the length of the line wasn’t too horrid, they approached, standing in spot, waiting to approach the barista to place their order.

The wait hadn’t been too awful, and it was worth it, especially to feel the heat radiating off of the styrofoam cup, feeling the sensation seep into their fingers. It was almost to the point of burning them, but it was a comforting feeling. Swiftly turning around, their heart stopped momentarily, narrowly managing to dodge running into someone. That would have been bad―especially considering how scolding hot the coffee was. It could have seriously burnt this man. ❝ Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay? ❞ The tone seemed less than sincere, if only because no damage had actually been done. Not to mention, they were on a bit of a time crunch. There was no more time to waste, otherwise they would be extra late.

The aforementioned male’s―actually, would it be more appropriate to call him a giant?―aloof countenance ebbed away any true concern, the corners of his mouth raising slightly into the tell-tale signs of a smile. Was he trying to make them feel better, or was it for himself? It was hard to read, for some reason.

❝ I’m fine, no harm done. You should be more careful, next time.  ❞

While his words seemed a bit condescending, his tone was anything but that. It was almost as if he held more concern for them rather than his own self. Almost as if the coffee would have spilled on him, he would still be the one apologizing for some reason. While tall, he also appeared lanky in stature, maintaining a rather poor posture. Hair longer than most, it also curled around the ends, bangs parted in such a way to cover the left part of his face. His whole appearance gave off a rather ‘edgy’ vibe, but he pulled it off fairly well. His appearance didn’t seem to match his seemingly quiet and tender personality. Granted these were all assumptions they were making of a stranger…

Wait, shit. They had a class to get to.

❝ Right, I will be. I have a class to get to, though. I’m super late. Sorry, again. Uh―later. ❞

Well, as lame as an exit as that was, there was no time to dwell on it. Turning away, they exited the cafeteria, once more continuing their rushed pace towards the art building. Why did they need an art credit, anyway? Well, it wasn’t like they had really chosen a major yet, so dipping their toes in every field was what the adviser had suggested, but…

Art was something you were born good at, right? Drawing something as simple as a stick figure came out completely awful for them. Oh well, it was just for a semester. Maybe the teacher would have pity on them…

Judging by the disapproving glare they received upon entering late for the third time this week, they highly doubted it. Attempting to be as quiet as possible, they tiptoed around portfolios and book bags, getting to their table and taking a seat. With the semester just starting, class mainly consisted of simple vocabulary terms and slight history regarding class assignments and projects that would be accomplished through the semester.

Paying attention proved to be difficult, especially as the classroom door opened once more, and a familiar face walked through. It was that guy―coffee guy. He was taking this art class, too? Why had they never noticed him before? He was sort of hard to miss. After a brief verbal disapproval from the teacher, and having him take his time to arrive at his table and seat, the lecture continued. However, most of it was tuned out, staring at the mysterious, edgy tall boy. Various questions swarmed their mind: What was his reason for taking the class? Had he known it was him at the cafeteria? Why did he not say anything?

Apparently they had been staring too hard, because suddenly their eyes were locked together. Breath caught momentarily in their throat, they felt like a deer caught in headlights. He was staring so intensely...was he just returning the gaze? Had they been staring that hard? Seemingly amused, he smirked, the back of his hand pressing against his cheek, head facing back forward towards the board, zoning back into the lecture.

With their gaze broken, their regular breathing returned, but their heart rate was another story. It was beating rather hard against their chest...from being caught in the act of staring, maybe? Damn, what if they looked like a freak? Maybe it was pretty freaky, though…

❝ ...and so you will need a partner for this assignment. To keep things fun, I’ve put the number of students in this class inside of a hat. Pass it around, and draw a number. I’ll put the number pairs up here on the projector.    ❞

What? How lame was that? Not only did partner and group projects suck, but being partnered with a stranger was so awkward...though, maybe it would be a chance to make a new friend. That was something they were lacking thus far in the ‘college experience’. Once the black top hat finally arrived, they reached in, fishing around for a scrap of paper. Pulling it out, they slowly unfolded it, revealing a hastily written number: 13.

Glancing up at the projector, their eyes scanned for the paired number: 8. So, whoever had the number eight was their partner, right? Noticing that the pairs were already beginning to meet up, their eyes scanned to room for any loners, assuming that by the process of elimination, that would be their partner. Once more, their eyes locked with his―coffee guy. Did...that mean that they were partners? Seriously? Why was life so against them today?

Slowly pushing them self out of the chair, they maneuvered around the room, until they were standing directly in front of the nameless classmate. Once more, their lungs seemed to constrict, making breathing a tad difficult. What were they so nervous for? There was no reason. He was just a normal guy―a classmate.

❝ You have number eight, I’m guessing? ❞

Fetching the paper that was resting on top of his closed notebook, he held it up between his pointer and middle finger, showcasing the number.

❝ Yeah, I do. ❞

❝ It’s a pretty bizarre coincidence, wouldn’t you say?  ❞

They let out a nervous laugh, eyes diverting elsewhere. God, way to be even more of a loser in front of the guy. However, he didn’t seem to mind. Rather, a smile twitched on his lips, chuckling lightly as blue-grey eyes gazing up towards my face.

❝ A coincidence, or fate? ❞