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@bartyxxcrouch-blog
SEND A HEART FOR A SPECIFIC KISS.
Send ❤️ for a romantic kiss. Send 💝 for a plationic kiss. Send 💞 for a awkward kiss. Send 💓 for a heated kiss. Send 💟 for a delicate kiss. Send 💔 for a interrupted kiss. Send 💘 for a static shock kiss. Send 💗 for a repetitive lip peck kiss.
Smash or Pass: Mrs. Mary Barty Crouch Jr?
“Smash, all day, any day, any time. And I like the ring to that name.”{ @maryxgracexmacdonald }
incredulous || barty + natalie
nataliedupont:
“That’s me, Bart. Always up for anything, especially where you’re concerned. You’re too much of a gentleman to let me get into too much trouble.” She grinned, mind going back to times gone by. When she tagged behind him in games of chase and pretend, the danger was of flying too high on the toy brooms or falling over to scrape a knee. Now the danger was much bigger, the risks a lot more than she anticipated. Now if you made the wrong choice you and your partner could be on death’s doorstep. And neither of their parents would be there to help them feel better.
“Well then, let’s get this show on the road, right? You’re a little better at this whole ‘random destruction on muggles’ thing.” Natalie grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She hoped her nervousness wasn’t showing too much. She flashed Barty a smile, hand clutching the strap of her bag. “If I’m not an expert by the time we’re done, then you owe me an ice cream at Fortescue’s. Deal?” She held out a hand, eyebrow raised.
“Call me Bart again one more time, Dupont, and your training will be a bit more hands on than you anticipate,” he said, half teasing, half serious. He reminded himself that he had to be a bit more careful in the way he spoke to her, her not being all that accustomed to this side of him. Working with her was obviously different from working with Alecto or Bellatrix, and he knew that he had to ease the girl into knowing more of the Death Eater side of him. “Come on then, little one.”
Barty was impressed with her composure, not really thinking she would have made it this far. She had more nerve than he had given her credit for, that’s for sure. “A ‘little’ is a bit of an understatement, darling. But I also have years of experience on you, so don’t worry. First things first, ditch the bag or shrink it. It will only slow you down. And you becoming an expert is not on me, but on how well you listen and retain things.”
Sirius Black
“Smash, into a million bloody pieces if he ever tries anything with Mary again.” { @dogstarsirivs }
✘ Coming Out Of My Cage ✘ Barty and Mary
maryxgracexmacdonald:
Mary knew she didn’t live in a good area of London. It wasn’t just that this was in muggle London, it was that it was a bad part of muggle London. Mary hadn’t been too concerned before, she could take any muggle who posed a threat since she was much stronger than they would ever be with magic. No muggle would stand a chance, so she felt safe in this area. That was until the Death Eater attacked her in the place she had felt safe before.
It wasn’t anything personal against Barty, Mary hadn’t reached out to anyone when she disappeared with Remus and Sirius. It wasn’t that Mary hadn’t enjoyed her time with Barty, in fact, she really had enjoyed the encounters with him. But, they had never spoken about anything in relation to what they had been doing. The fact was it boiled down to them only sleeping together. Or that was how she saw it. She had heard a lot about Barty Crouch Jr after she met him that night in the bar, she had actually looked for information about him. And what she found out was that he was a womanizer.
It was easier to just expect the least from whatever they were doing. He was a womanizer, so she should protect herself by expecting only hookups and nothing more from him. It would protect her in the long run if she never got her hopes up or let herself feel more than just that. Despite how she felt though, she would never be that harsh with him or anyone. Fear was a powerful motivator though, and she feared anyone who showed up on her doorstep unannounced after the Death Eater got in with a disguise. Mocha orbs studied his face as her sharp words hit him. He seemed… genuinely hurt and concerned by her reaction. “How would I know that? We only see each other for sex. I’m not expecting anything else from you, Crouch.” Each word hurt, she couldn’t deny that she cared for him more than just a booty call.
Suspicion and fear radiated off of the brunette as she stared at him through the crack of her door. Every single time they had seen each other had been at a bar or at his flat. She never breathed where she lived to him, yet here he was. Could he be the Death Eater coming back for more? A pang of fear jolted through her body. How had he known that Barty’s face would hurt her more than just the silver mask she feared so much? Mary stiffened as he told her to put up wards, it felt as if he was rubbing salt in her wound. If only she had protected herself more.
Silence fell between them as she shot questions at him, testing his identity. If he was the Death Eater again, he wouldn’t be able to answer them at all. The answers were correct, and she was more impressed and swayed by his second answer. No one had known what he said the last time they saw each other besides the two of them. She was silent as she studied him. In her mind, the memory was playing out. Her laying on his bed as he was in the kitchen getting them some drinks. She thought he had been cheesy, telling her randomly that one of his happiest moments had been picking her up at the bar.
Mare. She froze as he called her that. That… that couldn’t be the Death Eater. Mary slowly opened the door for him and lowered her wand. It still was in her hand, fear still coursing through her that she had to be one hundred percent sure, but this could really be Barty. “Come in.” She whispered, her brown eyes on his own eyes.
The area he was standing was not a place he would have thought in a million years he would have been standing in. It was filthy, and not in a pureblood looking down at muggles kind of way. This was not the kind of place where he wanted the girl he cared about to live, and somewhere in the back of his brain he was already making plans for something he couldn’t tell her yet.
“Mary,” he said forcefully, but also a slight edge of pain in his voice. He knew that he had never voiced how he felt about her, how she had become more important to him than she knew, but her words still cut him like a knife. “Mary, how can you not see that you mean more than just a good lay to me. You’re the only girl I’ve stayed with this long. You… You’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met.” Though the words were the truth, there was still pain in getting them out. He had never been good with emotions and feelings, thanks very much to his father, and he always doubted himself when he spoke them outloud. Like maybe he had misjudged how Mary saw their situation.
She had every right to question his identity, as he could easily gathered why she was doing it. Her state of being, the way she spoke, were all clear indicators of stress or duress. If he was going to get her to let him in, he was going to have to be patient and let her process what he was telling her. Still, he couldn’t shake the worry that flurried through him that someone had hurt her, and he swore if he ever found out who it was, he would make them pay. Even if it was one of his own, they would pay for hurting the girl he cared so deeply for.
His breath caught in his throat when her demeanor changed, and the door opened wider so he could see her fully. The bags under eyes had unnerved him before, but seeing her in front of him only made him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. Instead, he slowly made his way into her flat, studying her eyes and her moves carefully as he did so.
“Can you tell me what happened? Or do you just want to not talk about it? It’s completely up to you, I’m here for you,” he said, resisting the strong urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He had to patient and wait for when she was less shaken for something like that. “Talk to me, little lion.”
a drink before murder || barty + alecto
alectocxarrow:
A snort escaped her lips as Barty mentioned he wanted to make his mother proud and she shook her head in amusement. “I’d say thats not possible however your mother loves you so much she probably thinks everything you do is perfect. Love creates fools.” She said with a grin as she finished her drink. It had been part of her philosophy for a very long time by now and maybe if she’d be honest with herself she’d realize that a small part of her was jealous, still wished either of her parents would have shown her that kind of love. But it was too late for that and she had put it behind her or rather shoved it into a small corner of her mind she never planned to look at again. “To our parents, who have successfully fucked us up for good.” The grin on her lips was clearly ironic as she clinked her glass against his in a toast.
“It were fun nights, I can tell you. You get very amusing right before the point where you continue falling from your stool. At that point I usually brought you home because I’m a great friend.” She claimed with a smirk, remembering these nights. It had taken Barty several defeats until he finally realized that it wasn’t just good luck but basically just skill… or rather a very high tolerance thanks to constant drinking. “Are you trying to tell me that I don’t make enough plans or what? I mean that kind of stuff usually doesn’t work plan wise so I found having a talent for improvising is probably more helpful than anything else. Don’t you think having everything planned out and under control gets boring sometimes?” Raising her eyebrows questioningly she already feared his answer would be yes. Sometimes Aly felt as if her love for chaos was something only very little people shared. “I wouldn’t neccessary call it cute but I think I’m pretty damn great, yes!” A laugh accompanied those words as she continued her drink, letting her glance wander around the other people in the pub. “Oh you know me, I’m having my fun. Don’t know why all of you prefer working.”
Swirling the liquid in his glass, he knew that he sounded soft, but he didn’t care when he came to his mother. “Nah, she loves to tell me that I’m a dumbass, but at least I know she actually cares,” he said, making a face to lighten was was actually a rather heavy subject. If there was anyone that he actually loved in his life, it was his mother. Where his father had shown disapproval and discontent, she had shown support and encouragement. Barty rarely spoke of it, but she was the only reason he had gotten to where he was in his life now. In a position so close to the Minister because he was thirty, earned by himself and not just his family name. Raising his glass to her, he smirked knowingly. “And to fathers who would never give a shit even if they tried.”
“Fun for you, since you can actually remember them. I still don’t understand how someone so tiny can hold their liquor that well. You’re quite the marvel, Carrow.” Barty was not someone who gave compliments lightly, unless he wanted something. “I never found that having a plan comes in handy all that much. It never goes according to what you want. I prefer to think on my feet, and have a little fun while I’m at it, you know?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “There’s a time and a place for plans, and this, my dear, is not one of those times.” Making a face at her, he downed more of his drink. “My job puts me in a good position for the Dark Lord’s intel. We need someone in that office, and I’d rather it be me in that position,” he replied, knowing fully well he would not have been happy had someone else been in his position.
maryxgracexmacdonald:
“And here I thought you all had your own owl.” She laughed softly at the idea that she owned two owls while Barty, who was much richer than her, only had his mother’s owl. Though, both Plop and Hermes had been cheaper than his owl. Besides, her parents had bought her Plop while she bought them Hermes. Mary never pushed too much to hear about his family, since she always felt guilty she couldn’t tell him the truth about her family. Mary had never felt like this with anyone else, she had never felt so whole and happy simply by being in someone’s presence. All this talk of him buying her things were not taken seriously on her end, she assumed they were just sweet nothings they jokingly planned. “Maybe. I mean, I’d love another cat. But I would have to find one who would get along with Buttercup. I’m not sure how she would feel about a cat.” She kissed him lightly as he promised to take her to those places. “I’d love that. I can already imagine all the things we’d get up to. Imagine the food we’d find.” It was fun to dream of things she’d probably never get to do, but at least she could enjoy the fantasy. Especially with him. She pushed herself up and rested her chin on her arms on his chest, looking down with a grin. “That’s the sweetest bullshit I’ve ever heard.” She giggled. “My happiest memory was the day I found out about my acceptance to Hogwarts.” She had to come up with another question. “What was your favorite parts of being in Ravenclaw?”
“Why bother paying for another when I have one already at my disposal?” he laughed, running his fingers through her hair. While he always had the means to buy whatever he wanted, he knew better than to be frivolous about what he spent on. He bought what he needed and wanted, just the best versions he could get his hands on. One thing he had learned from his mother was that spending more upfront saved more in the long run. But he knew that he would buy someone he cared about anything they wanted and he promised, which now included the woman in his arms. “You should get another one. Feisty little beings, they are.” Pulling her closer into him, he let out a contented sigh. “Oh, the food is incredible, just you wait, darling. I’ll show you all of my favorite spots, especially the more privates one,” he said teasingly. Thinking for a moment, he let a stupid smile cross his face. “Being with a bunch of like minded people who didn’t tease you for being interested in academics. Same question for you, little lion, but for Gryffindor.”
proven worth || barty + rabastan
thvnderstormrab:
Tapping one finger against the side of his glass, Rabastan skimmed the printed pages of the Daily Prophet laid out on the table before him. The moving photo in the corner of the page showed a skull hanging in the clouds above Muggle London, a snake twisting out of the mouth. The picture was so clear he could almost hear the sound it had made in the sky that night, along with the screaming of car alarms and the trickle of blood into the gutter. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Truly, they had gotten off easy.
Rabastan was pulled from his thoughts by a hand clapping him on the back, but before he could reach for his wand, Barty Crouch Jr. appeared in his line of vision and settled into the chair at his side. Folding his paper and pushing it to the side, Rabastan turned to look at Barty. “Right as rain after a couple glasses of this swill,” he said, a conspiratorial smile on his face. “And yourself, Crouch? I can’t say I’ve seen you except in passing for a few weeks now.”
The younger Lestrange was nothing if not a curious man, and if he were honest, this meeting in itself was curious. It wasn’t often that the older Death Eater sought him out, not outside of business.
It was only a few short years ago that Barty was in the boy’s position, doing everything that he could to prove himself. To show that he was strong and could go stronger. Finding his new purpose within a select group of his peers. How exciting it was, the thrill of getting away with everything because of the mask that they wore. The power that came with that anonymity.
“Yeah, well, it’s always a good way to get the edge off, yeah?” he laughed, relaxing into his seat. Giving a noncommittal shrug, he leaned against the bar. “I’m alright, though I could use a few pints in me as well,” he said with a smirk. “And ever since that… unfortunate business of Christmas day, unfortunately my office has kept me rather busy. Almost a pity everything’s almost back to normal, back to boring,” he said, knowing very well that boredom and Barty were not a good combination.
“Actually, I was hoping if I could buy you a pint. I heard about your work with the auror,” he said, dropping his tone so only the younger boy could hear. “Thought you’d earned a round. Or two.”
Wrong Sender ✠ Barty and Mary
maryxgracexmacdonald:
Mary was beyond angry by her blind date walking away. It wasn’t because she was enjoying herself or honestly wanting to spend time with her date, but the fact was that he had walked out on her. Without a word. Bloody arsehole. “He could have said something. He just walked out on me. Like I was nothing.” Mary muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at her empty glass. It was like he was embarrassed and ashamed of her being his date. Honestly, it took a hit on her ego and her confidence. She couldn’t understand why this Barty guy was bothering her either, perhaps it did just boil down to the fact that his ego was bruised after she didn’t fall all over him like the blonde was. “Right, well let’s say I know your type.” Mary knew she was attractive enough to warrant men hitting on her. “I’m not quick to judge, I just know better. You can honestly say you aren’t trying to kiss me or sleep with me?” She questioned him with a raised brow. She rolled her eyes, but was not too upset with him. He seemed harmless enough and at least she could get drunk to make up for this horrid night. Really, she didn’t know why she even left her flat tonight. “Conversation and observation, huh?” She smirked and rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that.” Mary gave him her drink order with a smirk, it was easy and simple, she didn’t have an expensive taste.
Barty felt slightly bad that the bloke felt like he needed to slip out without a word, but he also felt a hint of relief that he was gone. “You’re not nothing, sweetheart. From just the few moments I’ve been sitting here, it’s his loss,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t usually one to try and talk people up, believing that the only person that could determine someone’s self worth was themselves, but he hated seeing her dejected. He personally had never dealt with that sort of rejection but he could at least partially understand what it must feel like. Shrugging his shoulders casually, he shook his head. “Personal experience, I take it? And I can tell you that that is not my intention.” “Believe it or not, Miss Mary, not all men want to get into your pants,” he teased, knowing full well he would not mind in the slightest. “Yes, that is what I said, and what I have the intent for,” he said before getting up to order drinks. Coming back with hers, he slid it over to her before placing two shots down on the table in front of them. “If you’re up for it,” he said with a smirk.
a passing amusement | barty + druella
bartyxxcrouch;
Errands were for house elves, but his mother had hijacked his favorite for the day. Barty was unsure why he liked Winky, or why the house elf was so taken with him, but he never complained. He was always spoiled by her, and he was not about to change that. It was almost laughable that the elf had been a better parental figure than his father ever could have been.
But not having his trusted elf for the day meant that Barty had to make his more… urgent errands himself. He didn’t trust anyone else with them, and Knockturn Alley was not a place he would willingly send his mother. She was not involved in any of this and that was the way that he was going to keep it. His mother was the one to show him love was possible, and he would protect her at all costs.
Hearing a familiar, sweet voice breaking his concentration through the alley with a tap on his shoulder, he turned to find a familiar face to match it. “Madam Black,” he said, an edge of respect in his voice as he greeted her politely. Of all of the Black family, there were few he held respect for. And the beautiful blonde was certainly among them. “To what do I owe this pleasure, ma’am?”
Druella lit up with a charming smile at the respectful and enthusiastic way that Barty Crouch Jr. greeted her. Finally, someone had the appropriate response to being on the receiving end of her attention. Maybe she the fact that she lived with only one other human who could barely stand the sight of her was starting to get to her.
She gave him a cheeky smile as she leaned just a bit closer, wondering if her powers of flirtation were still any good. Barty seemed like just the thing to distract her from her intense boredom for the next few hours, and the look on his face made her think that he would have no problem being the distraction she had been seeking.
Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked up at him. “Please, call me Druella. We’re on a first name basis by now, aren’t we?” Her voice was sweet and pleasing. Druella flipped her blonde hair behind her, the silhouette of her slender shoulders clear even through the thicker robes that she wore to protect herself from the chilly February air. “Pleasure? How flattering! I was merely looking for something to do and happened to see you walking down the alley.”
To Barty, it was clear which side of the Black family he preferred to be in the company of. Druella and her daughters were always kind to him, whereas the others looked down on him in disdain. Her bright smile was met with his own as he looked at her.
It was always astonishing to Barty how witches were able to stay beautiful, even after having their own families grow up. Wizards seemed to grow wrinkled and crabby after their kids grew. But Druella Black could easily pass for her daughters’ sister.
Barty let out a low chuckle as he shrugged lightly. “Old habits, I guess. Hard to break, hard to forget,” he said with a cheeky grin. As he watched her flip her hair, his lips formed into an amused smirk, knowing just what she was attempting. And he was not going to complain, wanting to clear his head and have the distraction that she was clearly offering. “It is always a pleasure to be in the presence of a woman as lovely as yourself. And isn’t that a stroke of luck!”
a voice of reason || barty + narcissa
always-pure:
There wasn’t much Narcissa could do to help clear her mind. She could not stop thinking about Andromeda. The sister that had betrayed her. Now she felt as if she was betraying everyone she loved. Her mother and Bella deserved better than what Narcissa was doing now. And Lucius. Narcissa didn’t want to think what would happen if he knew that she had seen her sister.
He had been there, through all the heartbreak. She did not want to let him down.
The best thing she could do was keep her mind busy, keep herself occupied. It had been long since she had gone shopping. A shopping trip meant she was doing nothing more than what society expected of her. Oblivious, air headed, selfish. Society had given her the perfect cover.
As Narcissa thought about which place was best to pick up some information, she saw Barty walking across from her. With a smile she made her way towards him. ❝Barty❞ Narcissa said cheerfully reaching for a hug. ❝It’s so good to see you!❞
Strange as it was, his grip on his priorities seemed to be slipping. Well, not slipping yet changing. He found himself more and more adamant about protecting Mary, and keeping her away from the darker parts of his world, yet he also felt the need to prove himself. He needed to find a balance between the two parts of his life, or he was going to drive himself mad.
It was so interesting to Barty how different his relationships were with each of the Black sisters. With the older one, it was a kinship, a mutual respect and enjoyment of each other as those of equal rank. With Narcissa, he felt protective, even knowing the girl had her husband to protect her. She was far too gentle for those around her, and he wanted to make sure she was treated well enough.
Quickly enveloping the girl into a hug, he already felt a sense of calm. “It’s lovely to see you too, darling,” he said, pulling back from the hug to smile down at her. Only four years younger, but he remembered her as a child so clearly in his mind. “What brings you out today?”
cheers to that || barty + bella
barty:
Even now, after having the opportunity to watch for herself as Crouch’s son grew into a respectable man, Bellatrix found herself perhaps too shocked by the immense amount of difference. Bartemius Crouch Sr. was the epitome of everything she could not stand - walking proof that men were nothing without a woman to lead the way, yet too sexist to admit it.
Meanwhile, Barty was fun, if not too full of himself at times - painfully annoying as it could be, he was never disrespectful. Perhaps that was why, in part anyways, his company was nearly always a thing to be enjoyed. It was a true representation of what should be, to be treated both as an equal and superior. Very few found the balance without being horribly transparent.
With acute precision, Bellatrix’s cloak dropped into the waiting hands of the elf without so much as a downward glance. “Oh, that is a shame. If only I’d arrived one moment sooner.” A trill of vain laughter rose past crimson coated lips at the thought. She knew better than most what kind of man Barty’s father was. “I suppose he was unhappy again?”
If there was something Barty strove for most in his life, it was to not be equated to the man whose name he bore. He heard the whispers at the Ministry, of how hated his father was. It was with great pride that those people then turned and talked to him with respect and encouragement. He was already forging his own path, accepting that his father’s disapproval was his own approval.
Bellatrix Lestrange was a true force to be reckoned with, and he admired almost everything about her. She was far from mundane company, as many in their community were. He liked her enough to allow his genuine self to come through, not all that careful about the things that he said or did around her, as she was not too quick to judge him. It was the perfect balance for the two.
Casting a glance down at Winky, he wanted to give her a small grimace of apology, but knew better than to do so in the presence of a Black. Instead, he let his trademark casual smirk cross his lips as he let out a bark of laughter. “A real shame, isn’t it? I’m sure he would have loved to monopolize your time,” he teased with a roll of his eyes. “When is he not unhappy, love?”
Complaints and Frustrations // Barty & Walburga
She detested the ministry with a passion. Walking along the cold floor made her almost nauseous, the clicking of her heels on the tile floor echoing in her ears. The dull rumble of voices around her made her skin crawl. She overheard snippets of mundane conversations about benign ministry business and barely suppressed an eyeroll. There was a war going on, a fight for the very future of wizarding kind, and here she heard two people talk about what stationary to buy for the Department of Defense – did they even write letters?
She knew it must have been a bit hypocritical, acting that way about mundane affairs. She was here on a mission regarding her latest event, the one she and Druella were supposed to be hosting together, and it seemed to fall on her shoulders to take care of any of the issues.
What would the Black family do without her, she often wondered to herself.
That was why she found herself marching her way into the minister’s offices, whomever the new minister was, in all of her pureblood haughtiness. She burst through the doors, spotting the first line of defense in one Mr. Crouch Jr. Wonderful. The son of one of her least favorite ministry officials, now worming his own way into the government. How lovely.
“Mr. Crouch, I request an audience with the minister immediately.” She pulled off her puffskein stole, draping it carefully across the back of one of the chairs. “I would like to know straight from his mouth why my international floral arrangement was denied entry into the country. I have exactly four days to finish planning my event and I did not intend to spend the day at the ministry trying to get flowers across the boarder.”
@bartyxxcrouch
Days at the Ministry were starting to become dull again, mostly consisting of turning unimportant people away from the office, dealing with those who had some importance, and kissing the ass of those deemed important. He almost wished something else would happen, that way he’d actually have a full day of interesting work. As it stood, Barty had finished his work for the day by noon, and just handled the people making their ways in and out of the office.
He always did his best to appear as though he was far on top of his work, in hopes of being promoted earlier. That was the Crouch way, and Barty would be no exception. At least for his mother’s sake he wouldn’t be. He worked his butt off in order to reap the rewards later.
Wouldn’t his father be so proud? If anyone could make the man proud, that was.
As if the universe just wanted to him to have a bad day, the door to the office swung open, and in walked one of Barty’s least favorite members of the Black family. They had not interacted personally all that much during his life, but he figured he knew enough, and her reputation was widely known throughout their community. He despised women like her.
Barty held back the bark of laughter he so wanted to let out at the trivial matter that seemed to plague the woman in front of her. Keeping his face straight, he kept his composure as professional as possible. “I’m sorry, Madam Black, but the minister is busy in meetings all day. Matters that need attending to right away with the recent shift of position. I can see if I can get you into the calendar, but I believe it won't be any earlier than tomorrow morning.”
suns & stars { barty + sybill }
After work hours were usually reserved for a pint at a pub, alone most of the time. It was the time he typically took to sort out his thoughts and determine if he had any useful intel to report back. Unfortunately, it had been a relatively dull day at the office, and there was nothing that really would be of any use. He felt the annoying pang of boredom as he glanced around the pub, until his eyes fell onto a familiar face.
Barty did not know her all that well, their social circles always having been very different. But he did remember the peculiar, even by Ravenclaw standards, girl a few years behind him at school rather well. Most from the comments he and his friends had made about her over the years, not all of them being all that kind. And she was better company than none, Barty supposed.
“Sybill Trelawney,” he said in amused greeting. “And here I thought my afternoon was going to be a dull one.”
@simplysybill
Barty Crouch Jr. → R a v e n c l a w
Put a symbol in my ask for a character that...
ask-mmd-sud-italia:
♟ - my muse obeys ♛ - my muse admires ☯ - acts as a foil to my muse ♥ - my muse tends to cling to ☒ - my muse refuses to talk to ☀ - my muse refuses to talk about ☑ - my muse wants to know better ✉ - my muse likes to pester / talk to ★ - has the complete trust of my muse ☢ - my muse cannot stand being around ♫ - my muse likes to get into antics with ? - always manages to confuse my muse ♡ - my muse is crushing on / in love with ☎ - my muse first contacts in a emergency ☃ - my muse has very mixed feelings about ☮ - makes my muse feel calm when around them ✗ - my muse likes to pick arguments / fights with ◎ - makes my muse feel empty when around them ☁ - makes my muse wish they could fix their relationship ☊ - keeps my muse grounded or my muse keeps grounded ! - makes my muse piss their pants / run in fear at their presence ☓ - has scarred my muse in some way ( physically, mentally, emotionally, etc )
Smash or pass: Ivy
“Damn straight, smash! That woman is sexy as hell.” { @ivy-rosmerta }
