# 𝐅𝐗𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐄, ⸻ an independent ﹠ semi–selective original character roleplay blog for 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖍𝖊 ᵃᵏᵃ 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖞 ; a fallen angel forsaken by heaven for his descent into evil and damned to an eternity upon earth. exploring themes of 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦. MINORS ﹠ PERSONALS DNI. triggering ﹠ nsfw themes will be present — interact with caution. penned by 𝒄𝒚𝒃𝒆𝒓 ( 27, she / they, pst ). beta editor only. established 02 july 2024. revived 15 june 2026.
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 🍷 𝒊.⠀carrd. 𝒊𝒊.⠀memes. 𝒊𝒊𝒊.⠀wishlist.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑, ⸻ this blog features my own original character previously written at @fxllendream. i have completely lost access to that account due to losing the previous email and cannot delete or archive the old blog. i am still CYBER, the original creator/writer of valanthē, just moved to a new active blog here !
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a litany of prompts exploring intimacy and sexuality. mature audiences only; do not interact if you are a minor. add +reverse to reverse the roles. combine prompts by sending multiple at once. only use these prompts to portray consensual scenarios.
[beg.] sender makes receiver beg before giving them what they want.
[fumble.] sender struggles impatiently with receiver's clothes.
[shh.] sender stuffs their fingers in receiver's mouth to keep them quiet.
[tug.] sender grips receiver's hair to pull them closer.
[tie.] sender binds receiver's wrists with rope / belt / tie / etc.
[bite.] sender sinks their teeth into receiver's neck / shoulder / skin.
[scratch.] sender rakes their nails down receiver's back.
[drip.] sender drips spit into receiver's mouth / onto receiver.
[69.] sender and receiver go down on each other at the same time.
[needy.] sender teases receiver about how desperate they look.
[deep.] sender pushes receiver's head down during oral until they gag.
[eager.] sender holds receiver's head still and fucks their mouth.
[anchor.] sender pins receiver's hips while eating them out.
[grind.] sender grinds their hips into receiver while receiver gives them oral.
[press.] sender pushes a hand against receiver's stomach while inside them.
[hold.] sender grabs receiver's hand to hold while they have sex.
[pin.] sender pins receiver's wrists above their head.
[straddle.] sender straddles receiver's body to restrain them.
[clutch.] sender clutches receiver's jaw to hold their head still.
[hollow.] sender presses a thumb into the hollow of receiver's throat.
[cradle.] sender cradles receiver's throat in their hand, applying light pressure.
[stay.] sender cockwarms receiver.
[breed.] sender fucks receiver deep and finishes inside.
[stare.] sender forces receiver to maintain eye contact.
[cling.] sender wraps their legs tight around receiver's waist while they have sex.
[elevate.] sender places a pillow beneath receiver's hips during sex.
[suckle.] sender sucks on receiver's chest and nipples.
[eavesdrop.] sender fucks receiver where others can hear but not see.
[praise.] sender praises receiver for taking it well.
[hush.] sender forbids receiver from making a sound.
[chokehold.] sender locks receiver's throat in the crook of their arm.
[mark.] sender leaves hickeys on receiver where they will be seen later.
[nuzzle.] sender buries their face in receiver's neck mid-fuck.
[rut.] sender gets caught up, fucking receiver harder without warning.
sorry for my absence this weekend. i was celebrating independence day here in america then needed to sleep the entire day today to recover. 💀 i'll get around to my thread replies and IMs soon! feel free to send me more memes if you like in the meantime. also, reminder that i have discord too if any new mutuals want it just lmk.
🏠 — describe their home when no one’s watching. messy, spotless, chaotic cozy?
when valanthē first settled on earth, he was very controlled and meticulous. he kept every part of his personal space in complete order. always tidy, spotless, perfectly organized. his room(s) were quite minimalistic as well with only the bare necessities and some religious artefacts/tools as needed.
however, many centuries have passed since the days when he was a youngling angel and has since evolved into a much different person. his home over time has grown to be chaotically cozy, yet with an aura of sorrowful seduction.
continued under read more !
his home, an old victorian gothic estate he's owned for ages, dark and dirtied in its color. nearly overgrown with vines, bushes, and other plants. the inside like a near-abandoned lair of crimson red walls covered in a plethora of old paintings, portraits, photographs, newspaper cuttings, dried herbs and flowers, framed entomological displays, and plenty of religious iconography. small remembrances of his studies, adventures, and loved ones of whom most have long passed on to the afterlife by now.
his bed fluffy, cozy, and warm in red crushed velvet with pillows soft as clouds. the bedframe draped with a shadowy black canopy, little pearls that hold them together glittering amidst the candlelight and a few vintage moroccan lamps. a large ornate cross hung just at the backboard above where he lies his head to rest.
in his office, his desk is horrifically hoarded with books, scrolls, old letters, ink and calligraphy pens scattered about. bookshelves with even MORE books he's collected across centuries of history; various bibles of many earthly religions, ancient textbooks, classic literature, gothic fantasies, world histories, occult studies, a few of his personal spellbooks or grimoires tucked away amidst them all. some books taken from libraries he forgot to return them to, some loan cards dated as far back as 1882.
an easel in the drawing room when the inspiration (and rare free time) compel him to paint the dreams, hopes, and visions he sees. a piano collecting dust, gramophone, vinyl record player, cassettes, and copious other physical medias piled around mis-organized in ways only he seems to understand.
an altar for not only the god he continues to worship blindly, but for the darkness which he has consumed himself to; a place for both prayer and sin alike. where he sits to contemplate, perform dark magic, practice divination, and beg for redemption.
let's not forget a dressing room with a massive wardrobe that houses way too many clothes for a pious man to ever possibly need. his many priestly vestments, modern day sleek dress shirts and slacks, vintage blouses, aged leathers, centuries old tunics and jackets, boots gathered upon the floor.
outside in the back, a garden that feels so much bigger than expected when you explore through his unkempt yet ever so mystical labyrinth maze of shrubbery. beautiful flowers like roses, hyacinths, dahlias, and baby's breath shrouded by poison ivy, nightshade, and hemlock. little ponds full of koi fish that seem to glitter gold as sunshine in murky swampy waters. a gazebo with a renaissance statue of goddess venus at the center of the labyrinth where he often goes for solitude, gazing through a telescope that only permits him such a faint blurry peak into the skies above where heaven, the home which abandoned him, is so far out of reach.
note that his estate is at the outskirts of london, england. that does not mean he doesn't have other much smaller places to rest and call his home away from home if he is travelling and/or living elsewhere for a while, for whatever reasons. his angelic power allows him to deus ex machina the problem of constantly moving his things back and forth. just a quick spell and suddenly the important items are magically there at the apartment in question! convenient, right?
don't worry, even his apartments are a hot mess to walk into. good luck not tripping over his five thousand shirts or his beloved familiar; a very chatty, cunning, yet affectionate black raven named malthus who really loves to sleep burrowed underneath piles of val's things when he isn't giving malthus enough attention.
🌹 — what scent reminds them of the person they loved/love most?
there are two answers to this.
the first, ocean breeze. coastal, fresh, with a pinch of salt and sage. it always smells of the road back home to heaven. to his brethren long lost. to the god almighty which he still devoted each and every fiber of his being.
the second, fresh roses. so intoxicating, sickly damask, and velvety. the traditional flower of love, romance, and devotion. they never fail to remind him of his eternal forbidden love for humanity. any friend, lover, or found family he ever knew all gone away now because he has been cursed to outlive them until the end of time.
🌹 — what is their love language & how badly do they need it right now?
to receive, words of affirmation and physical touch. he needs this as much as a human being needs oxygen to live. he doesn't often admit this truth as he holds on to a strong independent façade. even just a friend giving him a pat on the back or saying he's done something good can give him enough motivation to stay positive in daily life. when in a romantic relationship, he can be quite clingy and will crave these things possibly to the point of his significant other feeling smothered at times.
to give others, acts of service and gift giving. he likes to think himself a divine masculine, ultimate protector, and provider for not just earth but in particular those he loves dearly. friends, family, and lovers can all expect him to show his love by taking very good care of them especially in times of need. he really enjoys preparing special little gifts, no matter how small or big, for his loved ones as well.
✏️ — what nickname do they secretly love being called?
this can depend on the person and circumstance, but generally he loves to be addressed with affection of almost any kind. he may not admit aloud how starved and hungry he is for adoration, for his ego to be stroked without begging for it, to be worshipped just as passionately as he devoutly worships both god and mortals alike.
the simple answer? my darling, my angel, or my prince by romantic interests. mate, my friend (perhaps even 'bestie' in modern times), or my brother by close friends. he also quite likes generally being called by his chosen surname darcy, especially by other men / masculines. it makes him feel respected and seen as an equal.
some random but very wanted dynamics/plots for valanthē:
— putting under a read more because it's a bit long.
enemies to frienemies. val and your muse are enemies, rivals, or generally against each other for whatever reasons. always arguing, fighting, likely scheming to kill and/or otherwise defeat the other. yet they're forced to team up together at some point and have to slowly learn to trust each other. that's when he starts to see a different side to your muse, one that forces him to soften just enough to perhaps want to keep them around in his life a little while longer. potential for this dynamic to be enemies to frienemies to lovers too, but is not necessary!
archnemesis to lovers / toxic love. also for whatever reasons, val LOATHES your muse and they have a very passionate hatred for each other to the point of utter obsession (on his end at least). he believes your muse to be the utmost evil, disgusting, worst person who he must defeat and eradicate at any costs. unfortunately his passion is intertwined with an unhealthy toxic attraction that he tries desperately to suppress, but your muse tempts and prods him to the point he cannot resist the seduction. could possibly have a redemption arc where a series of events allows them to shift their perspectives, soften on each other, and choose to heal rather than continue feeding into their toxic relationship. OR they just stay evil and sexy because i live for the drama. would not recommend this unless you're okay with nsfw, mature, potentially triggering topics.
long lost first human/mortal lover. pretty much stealing the relationship of dracula and mina from bram stoker's dracula 1992. centuries ago when val first came to earth, part of his heavenly mission was to guide and protect a very important mortal who was your muse's past life (maybe they were a royal, martyr, whatever you like). he fell head over heels in love and as a young angel, still not yet fallen from god's grace, succumbed to the emotions of romantic love. although he did everything to resist, perhaps they married in secret, simply made love, etc. because it is forbidden for an angel to commit such sins and cross those boundaries, his penance was for his touch and love to slowly kill your muse (either driving them to madness, creating some sort of disease, etc). valanthe never healed from the loss and carried the guilt of their death ever since. now your current muse is the re-incarnation and spitting image of his first love, which sends him into a spiral trying to somehow make up for his sins of the past yet once again struggling against his reignited love for your muse.
father figure / adoptive child figure. valanthe cannot bear offspring of his own (yet) and after being outcast from heaven, he has a greater desire to acquire some sort of 'found family'. when your muse was very young, likely still a child, he saved them from some situation and took a quick liking to them. without being asked, he made it his personal responsibility to become a protective guardian angel for your muse and a fatherly figure to them as they grew up (even if they already had parents/family). they bonded over memories of him teaching many things, taking them along on great travels and adventures, sharing an immense platonic love and loyalty. now your muse is grown and he continues to look after them. however, maintaining the facade of mortality grows more difficult as you begin to question his suspicious behaviors, abilities, and why he hasn't seemed to age at all since you first met all those decades ago.
literally ANY fellow angel connections! his brothers and sisters from heaven who knew him long ago before he left to start his mission on earth, before he corrupted himself to the point of being fallen. there could be plenty different dynamics with these. angels who disapprove of him and now hate/dislike him, so they have now turned into enemies. angels who still have love and empathy for their brother val, remembering fondly their memories together as siblings in heaven, perhaps trying to guide him back into god's good graces or simply keeping a healthy distance for fear of being tainted by his fallen dark nature. angels who perhaps are also fallen and can relate heavily to his plight, whether he is liked or not.
also literally any demon connections! because of val's rather black–and–white beliefs, he is most likely to view all demons as enemies to some degree. perhaps can change into frienemes or a slow–burn friendship/lovers at best. demons he can share petty squabbles with, demons to battle and spar with, demons to make sketchy deals with, demons to be seduced and tempted into further evil madness by. OR even demons to help on a freedom/redemption arc so they can leave hell behind. lots of opportunities here.
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@corlacus : ❝ care to join me ? ❞ from heartman. ✉
❝ of course, dear friend. i couldn't bear to let you go alone. ❞ valanthē offered small comforts with a bittersweet smile, nodding along to accept the other's invitation as he sat down beside the other awaiting that final tick of the clock.
heartman had passed over to the beach countless times over the last decade to the point he surely no longer held onto an ounce of fear for the process. any mortal who received death and rebirth in timeless inescapable loop would have been eternal torture. yet valanthē knew better than to fuss over his brilliant companion. the man survived this long, what was a few thousand deaths more?
at least now he would not have to traverse the beach like a lost soul haunting an empty void. the angel would be there to act as a guiding light, even if that light were so dim against such murky unknown waters.
❝ what if i stayed behind twiddling my thumbs here while you run off and make a new discovery? it would be a shame to let you take all the credit ! then you'd really grow too big for your britches, and we certainly can't have that. ❞
Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!
My muse(s):
Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse
Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other
Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship
Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other
I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other
Feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!
hi everyone! so while i'm taking my sweet time doing replies/inbox stuff, i'm curious do my mutuals prefer to use discord to talk ooc? i've been lazy to make a new discord, but i also remember people hate tumblr IMs. so if anyone wants to plot, ship, share headcanons, or generally chitchat about our muses in between replies over on discord then let me know please! if i have to make one then i certainly will get off my ass and do it. i used to have an old discord, but it's been a few years since i was out of the rp game and recently returned so i'd rather start fresh.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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sometimes, it can be hard to get engagement as an oc writer, but it can be equally hard to explain what would help you engage with an oc writer! this meme is meant for oc writers who might like some ideas on how to help their followers engage with them, as well as provide a guided list of potential things that may help those looking to write with their mutuals' ocs!
📖 : more information about their backstory or lore!
👥 : more information about how they interact or engage with the people around them!
🌐 : more information about how they interact with the location/world around them!
🔗 : links for where to find more information you may have already posted about them!
🗣 : i'd like to first plot out how our characters could interact!
🤝 : i think our ideas or lore may not mesh or match, and would like to discuss how we can meet in the middle!
📝 : i'd love to hear potential interactions or plot hooks you're interested in for your oc(s), so i can use those as a jumping off point!
❔️: other (please specify what would help you best!)
it can be difficult interacting with others, both as an oc writer and as someone looking to engage with another's ocs, but it doesn't have to be—sometimes we just need a little help!
hi everyone! so while i'm taking my sweet time doing replies/inbox stuff, i'm curious do my mutuals prefer to use discord to talk ooc? i've been lazy to make a new discord, but i also remember people hate tumblr IMs. so if anyone wants to plot, ship, share headcanons, or generally chitchat about our muses in between replies over on discord then let me know please! if i have to make one then i certainly will get off my ass and do it. i used to have an old discord, but it's been a few years since i was out of the rp game and recently returned so i'd rather start fresh.
valanthē first starts wearing glasses on occasion in the victorian era, but eventually wears them almost daily by the time the 1950s come around. you would think being a fallen angel would permit him perfect 20/20 eyesight. and you'd be correct, it typically does. yet over so many centuries on earth, his soul becoming more corrupt and decayed with each sinful act he ever commits, things just aren't working for him or his body at the same perfect levels they used to without the grace of god to keep him maintained. the quality of his vision is deteriorating, not even to mention his other abilities which he more often than not requires dark magic or blood magic to fuel. his spiritual vision likely is still good enough to see through things such as disguises, illusions, etc. but reading that tiny font in a book? grandpa's gonna need his reading glasses for that.
his words drip as honey upon her ears, & she sups guiltily. his reassurance, a balm he works upon the soul, but the soul does not accept. cannot accept. not until he understands the depth of the mire she wades in. she finds herself shuttering her eyes the closer he comes, a string tensioning in her belly as the priest steps beyond the invisible boundary demarcating a world of warmth, & one of barren waste. a realm cultivated for one. the heat of a hand suddenly rests languid upon her arm.
the string snaps.
a slide begins.
unseating stone, piled upon stone, upon tender meat.
she wonders, slipping, if he can feel the air that gutters out of her as he returns & presses his beautiful gift into her hands. seals bequeathment with kindly kiss. the cathedral is tilting beneath their feet & she is leaning in like a bowed branch, anchored to this world by his hands.
a violent sob claws free of the cage of her chest that is not soft enough to prelude tears. does not care to give her release at this moment.
it sputters defeat & utter horror at the fact that when she has finished speaking next she may very well never feel his kindness again. that she will have to go on remembering this moment before she has rent it in two. she is already bereaved. but cut free the gauze that blinds, she must. her free hand rises to grasp his strong wrist, bone tight, begging in a touch. the veiled light does not bury the golden warmth of his eyes, or the elegant contours of his face that even now she spies a sadness within that she has surely conjured there. the taint moves beyond the blood, it seems.
there is a long, soundless moment where lamb merely looks & looks at him. her breathing snags upon the bones of her ribs. she is shaking, somewhere between laughter & madness, or thereupon the borderline.
❝ the blood in me sings, father. it sings me to the sick & to the dying. when i reach them, i open a wound in myself - ❞ , she gathers their enfolded hands, the precious rosary twined, swaying still, & slowly draws them flush against the center of her chest, his knuckle pressing flat bone. ❝ & i bid them : drink. it is sweet to taste. it scents of sunshine years past. & it seals the wound whole. it … passes the dying to their rest. ❞
her eyes, glinting in the veiled light bore into his, before a shadow falls upon her utterly, & finally she begins to loose her tears. long has it been since lamb has succumbed to the emotion. long has it been that that font has remained numbed shut. entombed. bitterness cuts a meager smile upon her pallid face.
❝ am i not filthy ? would you still entrust this precious thing to me ? do i still have nothing to fear, when this light within shines upon a lake of blood ?! ❞
piercing is the echo of her voice, reverberating off the walls & returning to them in malformed ugliness. there. they have stepped from one plane of understanding to another. may he find her mad or may he find her a daughter of sin. at the very least, she has gathered a memory to nurse her through this long life.
❝ is that what you have come for? to be assured with finality that you are good, granted god's forgiveness? . . . or to be punished? ❞ in that single word there sang an eerie reverberation, his voice ever delicate yet stitched with the threads of ultimate weight. so fragile, only a little tug at those strings could unravel divine retribution. within the confines of his own conscience, thoughts of judgment whispered like a snake through the grass, entangling his inherent thirst for justice with the empathy of an old hardened soul.
perhaps in another life, when he was still a youngling with all the cockiness and reckless abandon of being god's ❛ chosen one ❜ , he would have ripped her wretched filthy heart from the cage of bones it rest and eat every last repulsive bite. even now, the inclination tempted like a siren's song. would it be so disgusting after all? to consume such darkness, rid it of her soul, gorging upon the delectable innocence hidden beneath at the core?
a chilled draft in that dark long hall only did good to waft a sudden sweetness, tantalizing and forbidden. a palpable scent that could belong to no other but the poor little lamb stood before him. ruby eyes beading up at him with each sob, awaiting her fate of mercy or slaughter.
❝ if it is damnation you've come for, i regret to inform you that i have no such intentions. ❞ the silence then broken by his deep, exhausted exhale could no longer swallow them whole. he had to make a choice. if valanthē could fight his own darkness and forge a brighter path, then so could she. ❝ i can see how this pains you. i beg you, my dear. do not carry this burden alone. ❞
it was then that he guided her with a gentle pull to sit side by side at the pews facing the holy altar before them, incapable of releasing the desperate tight grasp they each held to each other's hands. for it provided a sense of comfort he could not bear to part with just yet. his warm palm pressed against her heart with the rosary melded between their heat like a gentle prayer made into a soul–bonding ritual. so eager to mend her wounds which plagued for far too long, he held strong his faith.
❝ permit me to help you rid this evil. not you, not your healing, but the darkness that bleeds alongside it. i have no wish to alarm you further, i understand this has been a troublesome confession . . . yet there is more work to be done here. ❞ she was no daughter of sin he believed. rather, a victim of it. something, or perhaps someone, had latched itself on her soul. that much was clear to the knowing eyes of eternal discernment which had seen so much real evil.
❝ if you would allow me to familiarize myself with your abilities, to understand them truly, there may be a way to purify them. yet i cannot force you to comply. please, sweet child, tell me you'll say yes? ❞
there it is, yet another sin sketched unto his blackening grace. a lie.
he could force her. if she refused his request, there may be no other choice. the angel kept his serenely touching gaze subtle and endearing, begging the mercy of god's will to sway in his favour. show her the right path. do not make him turn this darling creature into prey.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❝ you have a nice smile, has anyone ever told you that before? ❞
❝ how do you take your coffee? ❞
❝ sorry, what was your name again? ❞
❝ it just occurred to me i never asked you what your last name is. ❞
❝ actually we've met before. ❞
❝ i've heard a few things about you. ❞
❝ care to join me? ❞
❝ i'm not really sure why i trust you. ❞
❝ i don't usually talk this much, it just feels easy to say stuff when you're listening. ❞
❝ i know we don't know each other that well but if you wanna talk about it... ❞
❝ could you help me with something? ❞
❝ do you like it here? ❞
❝ are you new around here? ❞
❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞
❝ i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. ❞
❝ you can come with me. i mean if you don't have anyone waiting for you. ❞
❝ we're friends now. you can ask me for help. ❞
❝ do you like this music? i can change it. ❞
❝ what are your favorite snacks? ❞
❝ really? i wouldn't have guessed that about you. ❞
❝ do you mind if i ask about it? ❞
ACTIONS:
VISIT: for sender to go to receiver's home for the first time
VISITED: for receiver to go to sender's home for the first time
CRYING: for sender to see receiver cry for the first time
CRIED: for receiver to see sender cry for the first time
BEGIN: sender and receiver are on their first date together
TRIP: our muses go on a group trip but end up stuck together, away from the rest of their friends.
SITUATION: our muses are acquainted because one of them is their friend's roommate. muse a shows up when their friend isn't there and ends up hanging out with muse b one on one.
GO: our muses go to a zoo or theme park together and get lost.
INVITE: sender cooks for receiver for the first time
INVITED: receiver cooks for sender for the first time
TOGETHER: our muses spend the night for the first time
TRY: our muses hooked up and are hanging out the next day
COMFORT: sender is going through a break up and receiver offers to cheer them up
COMFORTED: receiver is going through a break up and sender offers to cheer them up
OFFER: sender gives receiver a ride to the airport/picks them up
OFERED: receiver gives sender a ride to the airport/picks them up
