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@immcterial-blog
7, 16, 21 - winnie
7. Their tickle spots
i don’t actually think winnie’s particularly ticklish. he’s spent the last 17 or so years learning extreme levels of control over his body -- he’s all bone and muscle at this point which leaves little room for soft ticklish spots. that being said, he’s definitely got a very sensitive neck; he gets squirmy if it’s being nuzzled or kissed etc. his navel, just below his belly button, can also be ticklish but he gets pretty jumpy anytime a touch strays near there that isn’t strictly professional for his dancing.
16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’
winnie has... a few of these. the most glaringly obvious is his relationship with food and the damage it’s done on his physical and mental health. only a few people have even the vaguest hint of an idea what’s going on and winnie’s determined to keep it that way. another secret would be the role he had in his brother’s relationship ending. like, the boy was literally sleeping around with his twin’s boyfriend and didn’t think that maybe eventually that would backfire.
21. Turning points in their life
there are two major ones i can think of. the first happened very young when he discovered his love for the ballet. he felt like he found himself an identity and it completely changed the course of his life, you know? the other would be the move to new york from australia. that’s a far way from home and also the first time he and emery are out on their own, away from the rest of their family. it’s the start of an entirely new chapter and though it still heavily incorporates his dance, it’s also had an impact in other avenues of his life: social, romantic, mental and so on.
Send me a character + a number and I’ll tell you my headcanons for:
Their physical weak spots
Their emotional/moral weak spots
Scars or painful spots
Best places to kiss on their body
Guilty pleasures
Their vices (physical or emotional)
Their tickle spots
Bad memories/experiences
Humiliating memories
Fears/phobias
Bad or petty habits
Grudges and vendettas
What gets them flustered
Ingrained habits/forces of habit
What it takes to make them cry
Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’
Regrets
Things they’ll never admit
People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them
What-ifs/Alternate Timelines
Turning points in their life
People who’ve influenced them greatly
wvstcdyouth.
Celeste finally was able to end her session and make her way back to the real world. Because of her work, he bed room often felt very suffocating unless she was sleeping or she was skin on skin with someone else. She emerged in a blush pink, silk robe which clashed with the red wig she wore for tonights little show. “Men are so exhausting, real pigs most of them.” She let out a huff as she let her body give in as she fell to the couch. “Had one of those foodie guys on tonight, you know the one I’ve ranted about before.” Her rant was interrupted as she notices red strands of cheap synthetic materials clinging to her face and in true Celeste fashion, she tossed it dramatically across the room to compliment her current frustrations. “Now don’t get me wrong, I won’t really complain about getting paid to eat a little cake, but he’s just disgusting about it. Would you believe he asked me to cover myself in it but wasn’t willing to pay a little extra.” the role of her eyes was evident in her tone. “Some people just were never taught respect.” It now occurred to her how much she had bombarded her roommate with, though he was really one of the select few she could complain about this too. Still, she figured he might want a momentary break. “Anyways, how was your day love?” @immcterial
the show percy’s been watching with volume low enough to be practically muted ( so as not to interrupt celeste, despite her room’s soundproofing ) gets paused upon his roommate’s return. for as much as he craves being the center of attention, he can be attentive to and turns his gaze towards celeste. his smile is gentle and open, not wavering except to express amusement as she lets her wig fly. “i was gonna say i wish i was paid to eat cake but i realized that, sometimes, i literally am.” at the prospect of covering herself in frosting, though, percy does make an appropriate expression of distaste, tongue sticking out and everything. “not even just respect but, like, paying for a service is a basic business practice. no one would take me out on a date and think they could just not pay me for it!” he clicks his tongue in sympathy beore slouching beside celeste on the couch. “my day’s been alright. i got a bit champagne happy at my appointment last night so i had a splitting headache earlier. remind me to stop after one or two -- especially when i’m on the job. i might say or do something stupid otherwise! or, well, more stupid than usual.”
maxhelders.
“don’t call me that,” he spats almost as quickly as the nickname leaves avi’s mouth. the nonchalance and amusement the other seems to find in the situation makes max’s blood boil. he feels red all over, from his fingertips to the back of his ears. max had never wanted to plan someone’s murder so quickly. or maybe just punch would be enough. anything. he’d do anything to erase that stupid grin off avi’s face. and to think it used to have such a different effect of him. the complement produces the same effect. once upon a time, max would’ve given him a sheepish smile and a soft kiss as a thank you, as a way of saying you look good too. because, damn, he really does. instead, he stays silent, letting the moment pass. “yeah. and you? are fucking one of my neigh-” max doesn’t know if he should be glad the shrieking sound of metal stops him from asking his bitter question. that is, until he realizes the elevator has come to a halt. and of course, that’s just his fucking luck. in the most dramatic of antics, max lets his body slip to the floor, raising his arm only to click and click on the alarm button a bit too desperately.
avi’s inclination is to antagonize -- to tease and poke and prod until he feels appropriately in control of the situation. max is making it easy as well by getting riled up by something as small as a nickname. there were plenty of other affectionate pet names the two shared but little prince had been among avi’s favorites. the interrupted accusation is probably one that avi deserves. it wouldn’t be out of character for him to be proudly strutting his ‘walk of shame.’ however, they don’t really get the time to unpack that claim before they’re trapped. no matter how quickly their signal for help is answered, it couldn’t be fast enough to avoid the inevitable awkward silence that passes between the ex lovers. avi’s the first to speak, quickly resuming his composure and the smirk that comes along with it -- though it’s been dialed back a degree or two. “seems like the universe wants you and i to actually talk,” he drawls, arms folding as he considers max’s dramatically slumped form. “or would you rather carry on with the theatrics you’ve got going on here? it'd be very on brand if you started to cry.”
bensricci.
Sitting at the bar of the cafe Ben closed his eyes, he was tired and his mind was buzzing, he felt the familiar buzzing under his skin but he ignored it. The coffee almost burned his tongue when he drank it but he needed it. Looking over when someone sat down at the bar next to him he smiled a little, “Why would anyone else be up this late.” It was almost 2am and he had been one of the only people in here before.
the actual answer to the other’s seemingly rhetorical question is simple: he’s hungry. it interrupts his sleep and keeps him awake more nights than not. however, sharing as much with his very pretty, very tall neighbor isn’t something winnie’s willing to do. instead, he opts for a crooked grin and crosses his ankles where his feet no longer touch the ground on his bar stool. “if i told you,” he hums playfully, “it’d ruin the air of mystery i’ve been working so hard to create.” winnie’s gaze flickers down to the coffee cup. “is that decaf or are you trying to stay up all night long?”
wvstcdyouth.
It felt good to be held, especially by someone he felt so safe with. There wasn’t the anxiety of him letting him go, more metaphorically than physically, but that meant even more. Sterling felt his body start to relax and breathing got a little easier. It did not feel scary or final as the other boy pulled away, like it usually does with the people he cared about. That was one of the perks of finding platonic intimacy and he had never felt more thankful that Percy didn’t let him fall in love with him. He smiled, genuinely, though it felt equal parts hard and easy, he was just thankful he didn’t have to fake it. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.” His voice was quite, not wanting to rupture this soft bubble of safety he was in with Percy. He wasn’t sure he’d find anything like it anywhere else. With his hand intertwined with the curly haired boy, he followed happily. He was quiet as the kettle began to boil, finding peace listening to it. A therapist he saw years ago once told him to focus on the little things in the moments all he wanted to do was leave his body, to stay mindful and present, and so he focused on the small things. The boiling pot, the warmth of Percy’s hand in his, the smell of the candles Percy liked to burn, all the little things that reminded him of all the other times he felt safe in this apartment. “Thank you for taking me in Perce, I mean I know Liz or Jess will always be there for me, but I need your softness right now. If that makes any sense.”
for as much as he craves attention and seeks out physical comforts, percy doesn’t often engage in the kind of domesticity he finds with sterling. it tends to feel too ‘romantic’, too suffocating in its intimacy; percy has a price tag on his feelings. with sterling, though, it’s always been different. they could spend all day doing nothing, touching just for the sake of touching, and it wouldn’t trigger the same kind of fight or flight response it usually does for percy. he needs the simplicity his relationship with sterling provides -- probably just as much as sterling seems to need him, though he keeps those thoughts to himself for now. “you’re my mess,” he trills as an easy reply, hooking his chin onto his friend’s shoulder as they wait for the water to come to a boil. it’s another mindless touch, a softness shared between them, in their own little corner of the world. “you don’t have to be sorry for it -- ever.” he let the kitchen nook fall quiet save for the hissing and bubbling of his tea kettle. sterling’s gratitude makes him smile, though he hides the expression into the crook of the other boy’s neck. “makes sense to me,” he huffs after a moment, tugging sterling along as he steps to get out tea cups, bags, and his sugar bowl (all one-handed and very impressive if you were to ask percy himself). “i am the certified softest, i think. it’s even on my resume.” he’s teasing in a lighter tone than he’d use with anyone else, lacking in even the playful hint of sarcasm. “besides, i like the excuse to cuddle so you’re always welcome.” he nods at the tea supplies. “make it to your liking, sweetheart -- i don’t wanna mess it up.”
mutuallycursed.
MORGAN HAD BEEN HAVING one hell of a day . his mother had called him bright & early just to bitch about some none sense that the church was saying about him that he didn’t give two shits about . “ it’s like she thinks i actually care about what they have to say , ” morgan says with a roll of his eyes . “ some people just run their mouths for the hell of it , don’t they ?” a small sigh comes from him as his unlit cigarette hangs from his lips . “ they know i’m gay & still seem to think they can ‘ convert ’ me . ” okay so maybe he did care , whether he wanted to admit it or not .
he might be all sprawled out and feeling exceptionally lazy as a result but he’s listening, honest! percy tilts his head in morgan’s direction, giving an acknowledging hum with a sympathetic look the other’s way. “some people like to hear themselves talk -- she probably doesn’t think you care so much as she just wanted to voice her bullshit, homophobic opinion to get a reaction out of you.” he can feel his nerves prickling in secondhand anger, even only at the briefest mention of the topic. “i’ve learned that the best thing you can do is meet their hate with apathy. leave them waiting for a rise that never comes.”
cmerys.
it’s become something of a habit for emery to walk up to the first floor of the apartment building and take the elevator from there to get up to his own floor. if asked, he might have said it’s simply for a little bit of exercise–a lame excuse considering the amount of walking he does around the city, but at least he’s never had to use it. the real reason is that he always hears piano music coming out of one of the apartments, and not just any piano music, either. it’s always classical pieces, and although there’s quite a lot of debussy emery usually hears drifting under the door, he knows he’s heard beethoven one or two times and it makes him feel inexplicably connected to the tenant even though he’s never even seen who lives there. until, of course, the day finally comes when the door opens as he’s passing by, and it’s not at all what emery had expected; it’s a boy, for one thing, and he’s cute enough that emery feels an instant blush light up his face. he could make a run for it, but for once in his life he doesn’t. “hi!” he practically yells instead, a little too loudly and with much too much force for a simple greeting. “sorry, i was just–i w-was listening to your…” he breaks off, takes a breath, and continues hurriedly, “the piano, you play a lot? you must really like debussy, beethoven’s my favorite and lizst is a close second but debussy is definitely up there in my top five.” a ringing silence follows his messy declarations and the warmth in his cheeks deepens. he wants suddenly to sink right into the floor. “sorry, i-i just…like classical piano a lot. um–i’m emery. i live on the f-f-fifth floor.” // @immcterial
there are only two things in avi’s life to which he applies discipline: his ballroom dancing and piano. he may have only been in his apartment at holloway for a little over a month but he’s had a grand piano set up for nearly just as long -- even having paid for an express move in company so that it arrived before a majority of his furniture. after all, who needs living room furniture when a piano bench works just as well? ( he has since acquired said furniture, of course, but his priorities were made clear. ) practicing happens daily, much to the chagrin -- he’s sure -- of his immediate neighbors. for how impassioned he plays some of the more fiery pieces, avi wouldn’t be surprised if his upstairs neighbors also had complaints; he should invest in some sound proofing. he’s just managed to squeeze a bit of practice in today before his time at the studio. stepping outside, keys in hand, avi very nearly walks straight into an unexpected blond seemingly idling in front of his apartment. it wouldn’t even take a full stride to carry avi around the stranger but he pauses which is, apparently, enough to uncork whatever sentiments this small person has bottled up. half stammering, half shouting, avi can’t help but be fascinated by the outburst. he waits a long beat, then another -- just to let emery squirm and to see if he can coax a deeper flush onto his cheeks -- before drawing in a breath to reply. “so you’ve been stalking me, then.” it’s delivered in a monotone, gaze deliberately narrowing before he drops the act, lest his nervous counterpart have a breakdown right then and there in his doorway. “i’m teasing, i’m teasing. promise. hopefully, my hammering at the keys doesn’t reach you all the way up on floor five though, emery. i’ve narrowly avoided noise complaints so far and i’ve only been here a month!” a smile replaces his feigned serious expression, dimples pocking his cheeks charmingly. “yes, i play. i’m presuming you do too?” then, he extends a hand politely towards emery’s still flushed figure. “avi. avi sinclair.”
arielfranzese.
Her brows rose when he spoke of drinking as well. Ariel always loved a good drink but had yet to find a good drinking buddy. Most people she’d met, she could drink them under the table, and it was all a bit disappointing. Considering she was five-foot-two and small in size, she was surprised that so many couldn’t keep up with her when it came to consuming liquor. “Oh, I always start early,” She grinned. “I get to interview musicians for a living and most of them like to drink - which means I get to drink, whether it be morning or afternoon, early evening, whenever.” It was one of her favorite parts of the job, getting to sit around and chill with different musicians. She got paid to talk and she could do that all damn day. “God, I love vodka. I think my body has just grown used to this by now, I haven’t had a bad hangover in years.”
drinking on the job is a foreign concept to winnie (though he does delight in the idea of a show of tipsy ballerinas). although he’s meant to be heading out, he can’t help but prop himself against the handrail, giving his neighbor his fullest attention. head tilts with curiosity and he purses his lips. “what kind of job would that be? some kind of... blog? journalist?” he gives an amused hum and scrunches up his nose. “i think i have the opposite problem with my coworkers. a vast majority of them would probably try to order a diet water at a bar if there were such a thing -- really doesn’t make for fun drunken antics or building up any sort of tolerance. i may have to find you sometime and have you teach me your ways. anything more than one measly drink and i’m sporting a headache the next day!”
maxhelders.
“compliment yourself then,” he answers quickly, a smirk on his lips. oh, how he loves pretending he wouldn’t bring down the moon and stars if percy asked him to. but he has a big enough ego as it is, he doesn’t need max contributing to the issue. max is walking behind him and it’s truly a shame that percy can’t see the offended face he’s making. “how dare you?!,” he grumbles instead. “i’m not sharing my limited edition ciroc with you, you ungrateful bitch,” he lies, already thrilled for the night.
“saying i’m pretty then? are you flirting with me, mon coeur? oh i knew it; i knew we were in love!” percy delights. he’d be clapping his hands together gleefully if they weren’t filled with designer shopping bags. so limited, he settles for stopping in his tracks so they could fall into step with one another. leaning over, percy gives max’s neck an affectionate nuzzle before traipsing ahead once more. “i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he tosses back playfully, coming to a stop in front of his friend’s apartment. “hope you can keep up with me tonight, baby. i feel like being especially messy.”
Today’s a good day.
wvstcdyouth.
Sterling felt himself barely holding himself together just as the door opened. He tried to muster a smile, knowing a sad boy must not be that fun to be around. But then the other boys opens his arms and sterling all but falls into them, burying his face in Percy’s neck. “She left Percy… she gone.” He choked back sobs, even though he came here looking for comfort he didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He didn’t want to see himself like this. It’s not like the marriage actually meant anything, but he felt like one day it might. And here he was left in the dust looking dumb. Sterling pulls away and rubs any escaped tears from his eyes with his for arm. “Could we maybe make some tea?”
he holds onto sterling tightly, as though he can singlehandedly keep his friend from coming apart at the seams and falling into a million tiny pieces. despite sterling’s more than complicated love life, percy doesn’t need any clarification beyond the few words he’s provided. he hugs the other a little closer in response. fingertips dance soothingly up and down the curve of a spine and, if he had it his way, percy would stay there just holding the other until the trembling lessened. however, sterling’s pulling back and so he loosens his arms. “’course we can, sweetheart,” percy hums, lifting a hand to settle a few stray strands of hair back into place with gentle touches. “no one’s home; you can stay as long as you need,” he trails his fingers down to interlock with sterling’s own to lead him to the kitchen while also preventing him from trying to hide any more tears. percy’s apartment is a place to feel and to feel freely. he doesn’t let go of sterling’s hand once as he gets the electric kettle filled and starting to boil.
effvlgcnt.
SHE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE him at first , & she probably should have . because in rebekahs world , max was always first . it didn’t matter that he was older , it didn’t matter that he didn’t need his little sister protecting him . because she would , until the day she died , max would always be a priority , before the band , before her job , before anything else . & to be kissing his ex - boyfriend was a big no - no in her book . no matter the situation & the minute light eyes fluttered back open , her face screwed up with recognition & d i s g u s t . the creep she was looking to escape from long forgotten as she pulled away from him , hand hands that were once on the boys cheeks , now gripped at his wrists , tugging them from her frame roughly . ❝ don’t for a second think i kissed you because i wanted to . ❞ & really , she may have been drunk but she didn’t WANT to kiss avriel !
he makes no move to stop her as she pulls away from him rather forcefully, small fingers looped around his wrists. the easy, amused smile that had slipped into place, however, doesn’t budge even in the face of her indignant protests. in fact, if anything, it only grows as just his presence is enough to stir up such an animated response. “no?” he croons in a tease, chin tilting as if in thought. “you mean you haven’t been in love with me this whole time? -- just waiting for the opportune moment to strike when acting upon your fantasies could be dismissed as drunken antics so as not to break your dear brother’s heart? well, color me upset.” his tone sounds anything but upset as his gaze surveys her with muted interest. “there goes years of erotic dreams, all dashed by a single rejection.” sometimes, with avi, it’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s kidding. for all she knows, he has dreamt of her. a boyfriend’s sibling is a delightful cliche. “so if not for want, then, why kiss me? let’s pretend i’m invested in your whole... scenario.” he goes to make a vague hand gesture but is stopped by her hand still around his wrist. dropping his gaze to it pointedly, he waits for her to pull back.
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