ind. oc multimuse blog

Hi! This is a fandomless OC multimuse blog (recently moved from my sideblog). I’m looking for people to follow, so if you’re interested, like or reblog this! ☆

“Excuse you! Beards are hot!”

Satoshi shook his head. “Really! It’s okay. No one was hurt. It’s fine…”

He glanced at the bike, frowning. He had a feeling that the bike wasn’t fine though. It was probably all scratched to hell and back. Crossing his arms, he hummed. This person seemed like they were an underclassmen. Not at the graduate school level. Jeez…

He really kept meeting a lot of underclassmen. 

“I promise. I’ve been through worse.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re an underclassmen here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well... you could have gotten hurt.” While stern, it came from a place of concern. Nothing the man could say will change their mind. Glancing at the bike just as he did, they mentally curse themselves. This is what they get for speeding recklessly. 

As he spoke again, they turn back to face him. “Hm? Oh, yeah. You a graduate here, I’m guessing?” No undergrad walks out of their room looking prepped and ready for... well, anything. They’re all a mess, especially them. 

“No no, it’s fine!”

He ran a hand through his hair once more, letting a deep exhale escape. God. That was fucking terrifying. He’d almost become a pancake. Swallowing hard, Satoshi willed himself to calm down. He needed to calm down. 

“I was thinking about my classes and my head was in the clouds. I probably should have crossed somewhere else.” Man, his back hurt. “Please, it’s okay…”

He tilted his head to the side. 

“You…Sure your bike is gonna be okay?”

“Even then, I should have seen you coming. Besides, It wouldn’t be fair to not take accountability as a driver.” Being behind the wheel was one thing, but they can’t phantom to imagine how it must have felt to be on the other end. Rubbing their neck, they make a glance towards the newly printed tire tracks. Had they stopped a second too late, this would have ended tragically -- hence why they were insistent on taking the blame.

He had been running back to his apartment to get ready for his presentation in the afternoon. Get on his nicest clothes and shave off the beard that had grown on his face after weeks of neglect. That was until he had crossed in the middle of the road (probably where he shouldn’t be) and saw the oncoming motorcyle. Oh no. Oh no… Pulling up his messenger bag, Satoshi did his best to move out of the way before the driver swerved and stopped. 

Oh thank God. 

Swallowing hard as he stared at the individual after they had stopped, Satoshi ran a hand through his hair. Fuck. He coulda died… (Not that it would have been the first time). Still, that shit was scary. 

“You… Uh… You okay? Your bike okay?”

There was a moment to themselves, heaving in and out as they try to shake off their initial shock. “I...I’m alright. It’s only a bike.” This wasn’t a first they’ve gotten themselves into trouble anyway. Quick to recover, they take off their helmet -- not taking a second longer to hop off and approach the bystander.  “What about you? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” They briefly look over the man for any injuries, while feeling an onset of guilt and worry.

They always pushed themselves to be careful on the road. A second of recklessness wasn’t worth getting hurt over. But every once in a while, they couldn’t resist the temptation to bypass the yellow light - not when they were only a few feet away. 

Saphir:

Despite trying to come off like he doesn’t care, Saphir is incredibly sentimental. He enjoys the romantic setting, even if he knows how cliche it all seems. Nonetheless, he can’t help but find enjoyment in it. This is his escape from reality. It’s how he gets his share of love that has been missing throughout most of his early life. Of course, there’s also wanting to get his hands on those cheap, retail chocolates. 

Chalce:

On the other hand, Chalce is someone who’s indifferent towards the holiday. They don’t see a reason for only dedicating one day to showing their love. That’s not to say they won’t celebrate the holiday, if only for their loved one. But for them, the holiday doesn’t hold any sentimental value. They’re really only in it for the chocolates.

Pieter: 

      “Uh... you wanted to talk, teach?” They rub their neck, avoiding eye contact at all costs. They could practically feel the disappointment  being given to them.

“…..?”

He blinked, narrowing his eyes when he heard it. God. He ran a hand through his hair, turning around to the owner of the voice. 

No. He definitely heard them. He definitely did. 

“…Did you just call me a DILF?”

     Shit. Fuck. Okay, first things first- do NOT make eye contact. Don’t even THINK of staring as his perfect jawline, his thick, arching brows- or anything, for that matter. Clearing their throat, the model begins to aimlessly scroll through their social media. “God, does he look nice in this picture.” They say while looking at a picture of a bird. 

      Looking towards the man who stood only a few feet away, Pieter couldn’t help but gawk with widen eyes. “... Wow. What a DILF.” A text by text definition of one.