#tinymute

[fillyoursoulxx]

short starter for @tinymute ft silas

"do you want to talk about it?" he kept his voice low, knowing that if she said no, that meant no. he wouldn't press. he had no right to, even though concern was etched in his features.

[rubiesintherough]

"What does black tie event even mean?" (Aedus)

@tinymute​​

      “ Wine and champagne, and conversations about nothing that drag on forever, and everyone is too polite to end them.... no, it’s a lovely affair, really, I’m simply being cynical, apologies. It merely means it’s a very fancy occasion. Everyone will be wearing their best formal attire and on their best behavior...  or rather, close as they can come for some of those on the guestlist.   --------- If you’d like to come with me, I would be delighted to have you? We could go shopping tonight if you’d like a new dress, have your hair done, have you dressed to the nines, if that sounds like something you’d like, darling? “ 

[fillyoursoulxx]

"Uh--" Shit. Silas flexed his jaw, shaking his head slightly. This-- this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not that anything ever went as it should've. Something about tonight just...felt different though. He'd been sure of it and yet here he was-- gawkin' like some kinda idiot.

He raised his hands, fingers stumbling. "Sorry," he paused, trying to decide if it was sharp the first word he taught himself was an apology or pathetic, before he continued signing "I'm learning," Hands dropped, one moving to the back of his neck, ruffling the hair on the knape of his neck it subconsciously. "I uh-- didn't get that second part but no, I don't think you are," His voice held more grit than he would've liked and he cleared his throat as he glanced out at the party.

That's it. Walk away now Sy. Quest complete. It had in fact been just that. A quest. Because event after event, he found himself drawn to her, his blue hues simply following her as he moved about whatever space he was assigned. He knew why. She reminded him of someone he knew, someone with similar red tresses and a way about her that felt like gravity. He had to speak to her. For only a moment. And he had.

He should have left it at that and just walked away. Would've been easier. The woman could write him off as just another sketchy server and he could go back to keeping his head down at these things. Less risk the better, cause this was a good job. Perfect for the type that didn't wanna be seen or heard any more than he had to be. It paid well and despite how snazzy their uniforms looked, it paid under the table. It checked all his boxes and had made living in town for more than a few weeks manageable. It would've been better to leave her be, but even with all that, he couldn't help himself.

"If anythin', I've noticed you always look like you'd rather be anywhere but here. So I thought maybe you could use a break? There's a little nook not far from here. Quiet. With a--" Another pause and he was signing again, fingers still clunky, "star view. Want to see?"

open.

“You’re staring.”

Juliette paused, slender fingers hanging there like a word hanging in the air. She pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowing a little. After a moment, she took in a sharp breath. The sign language continued.

“Yes, my family has way too much money to throw around.”

She frowned, shifting her weight between her feet as she stared at the people that moved around them, be it staff or party goers alike.

“Are you trying to figure out if I am like them?“

[buggeredson]

@tinymute​   [original]:

His words could be construed as advice, sarcasm, or some sort of threat. She was not entirely sure what they were, but to the young, rich girl, they felt like a lesson. Juliette sat, cross legged, unable to look him in the eye.

What was she supposed to say? She wanted to be a good person, to be the one who broke the pattern that was her mother and her terrible deeds. What made her any different than Tess and her large, expensive parties?

Was it her morals?

Or was she just as much of a monster as the abusive disaster that was her adoptive mother?

Before she knew it, her eyes were blurred with tears. Juliette drew in a long, slow, breath.

“So how does it begin?”

She’s small and quiet--in more ways than one. Her whole presence is quiet, withdrawn, like it only wants to take up the space it needs or less. She’s a consenting adult by all rights save one - the one that makes her so childlike now. Trauma makes children of even the oldest and the strongest. Crowley smirked as he watched her, a new light sparking in his eyes when her eyes filled with tears.

A nice, easy sales pitch. Just what he needed to feel back on top again.

“Bit different for everyone, isn’t it? Almost always a slow slide, though--and so spectacular a one-eighty you don’t even recognize yourself after.”

Crowley paced over and sat down beside Juliette--great name, he was a fan to say the least--as, with a sigh, he dropped forward some, elbows on his lap and feet apart. Sorrow colored him now, and it wasn’t just ACTING. Deals went over better when you could get a little more  p e r s o n a l  with the clientele.

“Knew a man once who grew his in only a few months. Had himself a boy, a business, a wife, two whole coins to rub together--but the wife got sick, and the man took to drink...and then adultery...whoring...more drink. Wife died. He started going in on his son, if you know what I mean. Mean old bastards would’ve his soul for another cup of water-piss whiskey towards the end there, and he did. That’s how it starts: one bad day, one out of control moment. But he didn’t have what I do--what YOU can, if you like.” He turned his head and smiled at her, but made no move to change his position. With any luck, that was all he’d need to pave an in here--and with the parties that bitch Tess through, there was a good chance meetings with seedy businessmen no longer raised alarm bells for the girl.

[radioactivesoda-gw2]

Commission for @tinymoonmoth!! 

Loved drawing your boos. :> <3

Support my work by becoming a Patron for just $1/month!

[sunclipsed]

@tinymute​ || Sentence Starters

“ i still have the scars. “

          There’s a quiet that falls over the space after she speaks. A gentle look settles on his face as he casts what remains of his sight in her direction. She’s just a blur of colors. No solid shapes to make out where her eyes should be or the curve of her shoulders. It pulses a bit of anxiety to his heart which he quickly beats down as he turns his gaze down towards his hands. They pick at the sleeves of his worn cardigan.

          Scars were always tricky things. They showed up in more ways than physical scratches upon the skin. But marks on the heart. Tears in the mind. Visible and invisible. The luckier ones would fade in time, but others seemed to remain as a haunting reminder of what had been. It was a feeling he knew all too well and a pill he had to swallow every day. Though, it never did make it any easier knowing others would feel the same.

          So he reaches out with a single hand to take away from their previous task. It takes him a moment to find her own, but once he does he places her hand between both of his.

          “You may still have the scars, but you do not have to bear them alone.”

[sniffingoutdeath]

@tinymute continued from (x)

There was so much she could not really explain to him. Telling him why she was curled up on the floor when she could easily be somewhere much more comfortable was a lot more tricky than her tired mind was ready to deal with. Night terrors plagued her, demanding that she wake and acknowledge them. The fear of what could lurk under the bed, under a couch, under anything, the fear of being snatched up and carried off…

It all overwhelmed her. The only thing that felt safe was curling up on the floor. So that is where he found her, curled with a blanket and a pillow…and Stella. Julie was not sure when the dog had joined her, but the beautiful creature was definitely a comfort. Julie peered up at Quinn, her hand absently stroking Stella’s neck as she tried to find some sort of explanation.

After a few moments, she made a small noise, climbing to her feet so she could find her text to speech device. With the small item in hand, she returned and slowly returned to her spot on the ground.

“I am sorry. Did I wake you? I did not mean to disturb you. I…”

She hesitated, rocking a little where she sat.

“Could not sleep. It happens sometimes.”

Why was she so afraid of what he thought? Worse, why did she shake like she had done something wrong?

Quinn had gotten curious when Stella was nowhere to be found. It hadn’t taken long to find her curled up with the young woman on the floor. And he was concerned. He wasn’t sure what had prompted her to migrate to the floor but he assumed that it couldn’t have been good. Nightmares wasn’t a concept that Quinn was unfamiliar with in the slightest.

He watched her as she got up and went to get her device. Now he felt a little bad for disturbing her but he just wanted to make sure that she was alright. Quinn was already shaking his head before the voice finished its delivery of her message. 

“No, no you didn’t wake me. I didn’t know where Stella had gone so I went looking for her and saw you on the floor.” 

Quinn squatted down so he was more at Juliette’s level as she sat on the floor. Stella didn’t get up to come over to him which seemed to indicate to him that she knew Juliette needed her attention more. He couldn’t fault her for that. 

“Sorry that you couldn’t sleep. I know how that feels,” he admitted softly. Quinn watched as she started to seemingly become a little more distressed. He wasn’t sure if it was something he was doing or saying or the memory of whatever was on her mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”

[utterhomestucktrash]

A commission for @tinymute !!!

This character is so cute and I love the colours and design ! Thank you so much for commissioning me !! 💖💖💖

[penguinpositivity]

huge shoutout to @tinymute, bc julie is one of the most amazing oc's i've ever come across, and i'm so glad i did!! <3 <3 <3

[somecrazylads-a-blog]

@tinymute | ♥

---

“Okay, new idea,” Patrick shifts in his seat ever so slightly, a natural restless that he usually covers up overcoming him for the small moment it takes for him to sit comfortably again. He enjoys libraries, and he enjoys a library company, but he isn’t a big fan of company alone. And while it doesn’t show often, due to his paranoia-born need to be anything but describable to strangers - beyond shallow adjectives that hardly speak of it - there is a certain restlessness buried deep within an otherwise patient and collected core.

He tries to not let it show as he rests his fingertip on the page he had opened the book between them, pointing a no sentence in particular, and rather at literature in on itself in the broadest sense of the word. “If you could take one thing from any fictional story of your liking... what would it be.”

[fillyoursoulxx]

closed starter for @tinymute​ ft juliette

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four. Three. Two. One.

Each of Silas’ fingers tapped the pad of his thumb as he moved through the massive entry hall. He weaved in and out, offering h'dourves and overall just trying to breathe as he had to shift and side step and do his best not to bump into anyone not paying attention. His skin crawled. His chest was tight, a cluster of icy barbs lodged right in the middle of it and fuck-- it felt like a mess of angry hornets were between his ears. He was aware of it all individually and all at once. He wanted to shut his eyes, to step out of at least one of his senses, but he’d learned when he started...this was just part of the job. 

Actual event spaces weren’t so bad. They had open concepts with lots of exits and decent acoustics. Staff had designated places to take a moment without having to worry about disturbing or being disturbed by a guest. Speaking of staff, there were more of them opposed to a few being hand picked to consequentially run into the ground. And furniture. They didn’t have completely unnecessary furniture or taxidermy or priceless vases in the most idiotic places.

Event spaces made sense. This was not that. 

It was some grand mansion event...not a wedding. Birthday maybe? Hell if he knew. He knew better than to take these kinds of parties. They were living nightmares and considering he had plenty of the regular kind, he didn’t need this. And yet here he was, making his way to the equally massive living room. For what? Oh-- right. He needed to make up for skipping out early before. Emanuel hadn’t been too happy about it, especially since Silas only texted rather than confirming he was actually ‘sick’. He hadn’t gotten into trouble but wasn’t like he got sick time. So this, however uncomfortable was needed. He had rent to pay.

Thankfully this area was less packed and a little more chill than the foyer and pool area. He made his rounds there and then made his way out again, cursing under his breath as he almost immediately collided with a set of guests. Apologizes were offered before he breezed past a similarly dressed figure, one of his co-workers no doubt, and into the first room he could find.

He needed a moment. Just a small one. Because right now he wanted to fucking crawl out of his skin. Looking around the room, which was likely someone’s study he heard the door open and he groaned, “Lenny, I know. It’s busy, but I need a minute so please fuck--” the words flew out of his mouth before he turned and made eye contact with...a familiar pair of clear blue eyes. He blinked, completely unaware he was already smiling. 

“--oh. You definitely aren’t-- uh. Hi” 

[rubiesintherough]

“ my love, starting a family with you… it’s my greatest wish. but if you’re not ready, that’s okay. what will be, will be. ” (Aedus)

@tinymute​​

It felt so very dishonestly selfish to claim he simply wasn’t ready... when he would never be ready. And that didn’t matter now, anyway. It had already happened. It shouldn’t have been able to, but it had. But, despite his fears reservations, damned would he be, and rightfully so, if he left her to deal with this on her own. He could never. 

      “ I have given you my word that I will be there for you... and I have no intentions of breaking it, now. “   His fears would calm with time.    “ Whatever you need from me, whatever part you wish me to have in this, I will gladly. “ 

[fillyoursoulxx]

He read her sign, the word marginally sticking out for more than one reason. It took him a moment to get it but also...was she? "I don't know what happened to you, Jules. I won't ask either but--" he cut himself off, a sigh passing his lips as he sat down on the step. What would making her question her 'safety' achieve? Nothing. She'd still be shit off. Maybe more so. "I'm sorry," he said rubbing the spot just between his eyes, "I just fucking hate that she treats you like that... you deserve so much better,"

There was a pause as she just stared at the sleeves of her sweater like an answer was woven into the fabric. There was nothing. All she saw was an expensive garment of clothing in pastel hues and her own shaking hands peering out from under them.

She closed her eyes for a moment. No answers came there, either.

"Until I don't need my family to be safe anymore. Until...until I know I can walk out of my apartment and not be on constant alert. Half of the luxuries of my life come from knowing I'm...marginally safe."

[buggeredson]

for each 💋 ill write a nsfw headcanon about my muse.

@tinymute​​  :   💋 

For someone as otherwise neat as he is, Crowley really quite enjoys the mess after sex. The sight of his own semen spilling out of his partners, or the sweat on their skin, the lube shining on their thighs--maybe dried blood on their arms--rumpled bedsheets, torn duvets, scratches on the floor from where the furniture moved on impact: it’s all very appealing to him, and for that reason he won’t really snap things clean as quickly as perhaps he ought. Although not a man who would allow himself to be seen (while fully in charge of his faculties!*) as being disheveled in any way, he gets a real kick out of making a mess of his partner/s.

*Spotting a disheveled Crowley is the surest sign to any muse that something is WRONG.

[blurredsun-blog]

@tinymute || 📷

          It was almost unsettling holding the CD behind his back. Sharing music with another shouldn’t have been this frightening, but with the importance it held he couldn’t help but swallow around the lump that began forming in his throat. How long had it been since he’s listened to the music on that disc himself? A few years maybe? That thought alone had his nerves clawing at him. He’s never even shared this with another before, but for so many reasons he felt it was right that he offer that chance to Juliette first.

          Taking a deep breath, he closes the rest of the distance between them before slowly pulling out the CD. As he holds it out he chews on his bottom lip for a few moments. He’s not quite sure what Juliette would think, but he guesses it’s as good of a time as any to find out. So he does his best to hold onto any semblance of confidence that he has as he looks at her.

          “I know you like the violin, and well…I thought you might want to listen to this. It’s a live recording from a concert that’s about thirty years old. It’s one of my favorites.”

[notjustamxchine-blog]

[[ @tinymute --- cont. from here. ]]

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. A thousand calculations at once...  He had no weapon of his own, their surroundings weren’t optimal for a fight like this. There was a high probability SHE could be hurt before he managed to get to her, even with his speed. He’d have to be careful. He’d have to be faster... 

He’d been created to be a negotiator, first... time to put that to use. A slow step forward, hands held up, palms facing them. Anger was concealed behind a cool demeanor, neither features nor LED betraying any of it, save for the nearly imperceptible clenching of his jaw at the frightened sound she made.

        “ What new order? “    He had to keep them talking, keep them distracted. Another step forward.    [ PRECONSTRUCTION ]   Attack the one on the left first, snap his neck, take his weapon, shoot the one holding Juliette, shoot the other before he had a chance to retaliate. Probability of success: 64%.  The percentage was too low... numbers flashing in his peripheral. But, that wouldn’t deter him. He had to take it. He would accomplish this mission.     “ Why don’t you tell me what that has to do with her? “