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CLOSED STARTER

"Rough night for tips, huh?"

Asked the voice at the door. Angel turned around, eyes landing on Camile. Camile was shorter, with a blonde bob and red lipstick. 'Guys love Marilyn Monroe' she said, when asked about her obvious look. "Yeah... I'm a bit out of it today." The dark haired woman replied, hands placing the rest of the cash in a black bag. "Rest up tonight, sweetie. You'll do better tomorrow." Camile was probably the only coworker she was friends with. Angel had been striping for about a year now. It was a spur of the moment decision made when times got really rough. Angel had left over debt from her father, that and overdo hospital loans and others. Even if someone considered it to be a not so noble profession, Angel did not care. It kept a roof over her head, clothes on her back and food on her table. It also made it possible for her to consider getting her degree.

Angel excelled in chemistry, science and mathematics in school. She always wanted to get a degree in biochemistry or some sort of chemistry. But due to her situation and her debt, it was a far away dream. Angel turned her knowledge of chemistry and chemicals to darker avenues, in hopes of making more cash. She offered her services to crime syndicates. Body disposal, crime scene cleaning before the cops got there. It was like nothing ever happened. All under a pseudonym and mask, Angel was able to make close to 10k.

The young woman turned a corner, heels clicking in the cold street. "PLEASE!" A voice cut through the silence, causing Angel to freeze. "PLEASE! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" The voice kept saying. "It wasn't me! It wasn't me! I gave the Don the amount agreed upon, I swear!" Angel hid behind a wall, the scene now only a few inches away from her. She peaked over. Three men stood on their feet, with a man in the middle on his knees. He looked beaten beyond recognition. Before Angel could think how to leave, someone grabbed her by the shoulders. She screamed as she was thrown forward, body landing onto the concrete. "She was eavesdropping." All attention was on her. The man who pulled her grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to stand. "No, wait! I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear!" // @wiinestories

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The man reached out, grabbing her hand. Lips met her knuckles almost immediately. He wished to drown in her scent. "Thank you." Polly was his everything. A deity he looked up too and wished to please.

Salvatore nodded. "I am prepared to be honest and true to you, Polly." The man then sighed, as if that was his queue to perform said honesty. "Which means I got to say...Salome isn't going to stop being a problem." Salvatore was almost certain she was going to come back and fight for what she believed was 'hers'. "I made a mistake even taking it that far with her, now I'm bearing the consequences." He said.

"I want you to let me appoint you a bodyguard. I know you can handle yourself, but it would give me some piece of mind to know that one of my men is around to keep you safe. Not just from Salome." Back when they were dating, Salvatore rarely left Polly out of his sight. The man had a crippling fear of losing her (which was ironic considering).

Polly’s expression softened as she listened to Salvatore, her arms relaxing at her sides. His discomfort was palpable, and she could see he was struggling to find the right words, but the fact that he was trying meant something. It had been a long road to get to this point, and while there were still lingering doubts, she had already decided to give him another chance. When he asked how she was, Polly’s lips curved into a small, almost tender smile. “I’m... better,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “I won’t lie, Sal. It wasn’t easy. But I’m trying. We’re trying, right?”

She let out a quiet sigh, glancing down briefly before meeting his gaze again. “Salome... well, that’s in the past. I know it’s not going to disappear overnight, but I’m not holding onto it anymore. We both made mistakes.” Her voice was calm, a sign that she had spent a lot of time reflecting on what had happened, on how they got here. Taking a step closer to him, she gently placed a hand on his arm. “What matters now is what we do going forward. You’re here, you’re trying, and that’s more than enough for me. We can figure the rest out together.”

When he complimented her, saying she looked great, Polly smiled, a real one this time, the warmth in her eyes returning. “Thanks, Sal. You don’t look so bad yourself,” she teased lightly, trying to ease some of the tension. She took a deep breath, her hand still resting on his arm. “I want this to work. I want us to work. But it’s going to take time, and we have to be honest with each other. No more running away from things.” There was a quiet determination in her voice, one that showed she was ready to face whatever come next.

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Hugging him would solve all my problems

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ANORA (2024) dir. Sean Baker

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Closed Starter

"That's good to hear." The man said. "And is this girl trustworthy?" Salvatore knew he didn't need to question Liz, he was just being careful. This heist was going to shoot him to the top of the food chain, or somewhere close to it. Salvatore had been gunning to become a made man for years now, despite being the nephew of the don. His father's betrayal had practically outcasted him from the family, but Raphael (Salvatore's cousin) welcomed him back. "You trust Mick, baby?"

Cont from here // @ruinedsoulsrp

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Closed Starter

"It's okay." The blonde wasn't doing much sleeping these days. Work had her stressed, that and things around her home were changing. "You can't keep coming back to me, you know?" Darcy let him wrap his arms around her. Her hands didn't move from where they were placed at first. Slowly, she placed her palms on his back. Darcy knew it was wrong, knew she was being the accomplice to something harming someone else. But she just couldn't get Nick off her mind. He was always there, until he wasn't. To her, it was her way of keeping him for herself. As selfish and pathetic as that sounded.

Maybe it was her conscious kicking in, shoving some logic into the whole situation. Or at least, trying to. "I don't think she'd like it."

Cont from here // @ruinedsoulsrp

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Santiago moved away from the two, giving the woman more space to breathe. He was also doing because his brother had yet to speak to Soraya alone. Churches had a way of making Joaquin feel uneasy. Perhaps it was when his parents died. The open casket, the weeping and the choir echoing through the building. The casket that held the body of Kamran Ahmadi lay open. Joaquin and Santiago paid their respects, and the weight on the sheriff's heart grew tenfold.

Joaquin had been to a great many funerals in his life, maybe even more than birthdays. "How are you holding up?" He'd asked. Eyes scanned her face. He tried to recall the last time he had seen her in person. She had grown up now. They both did. Youthful cheeks became elegant and angular, lines appeared where smiles dominated. She was beautiful. More beautiful than he could imagine.

"I'm sorry." It wasn't a expression of condolence, but rather an ask for forgiveness. If he had done more, if he had looked after him more, maybe he wouldn't be in that box.

𝒔𝒉𝒆  𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘  𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉  was  apart  of  life  .  her  grandmother’s  words  often  floated  in  her  mind  —  "we  all  have  an  appointment  with  our  maker.  "  but  somehow  that  appointment  felt  distant  ,  meant  for  others—not  for  her  little  brother  .   as  they  sat  in  the  church her  hand  tightened  around  her  mothers  ,  brown  eyes  ,  dark  and  heavy  with  sleepless  nights  and  uncried  tears  ,  fixated  on  the  closed  casket  ,  praying  kamran  would  jump  out  like  this  was  all  a  cruel  joke  .  but  as  minutes  bled  into  hours  ,  and  prayers  floated  like  lost  birds  to  the  rafters  ,  the  casket  remained  closed  ... the  wind  clawed  at  her  skin  with  icy  fingers  ,  but  as  she  stood  outside  of  the  church  trying  to  keep  a  brave  face  ,  she  was  numb  .  the  looks  and  whispers  were  starting  to  get  her  .  the  fake  condolences  when  she  knew  half  the  people  in  town  thought  of  him  as  the  "troubled"  ahmadi  ,  scraped  against  her  skin  like  sandpaper  but  this  wasn't  the  time  to  add  fuel  to  the  on  going  fire  . "  thank  you  santiago  .  I  really  appreciate  it  .  "  she  turned  around  at  the  familiar  voice  ,  eyes  like  his  older  brothers  ,  that  immediately  caused  a  pang  in  her  chest  .   behind  santiago  lingered  another  figure  ,  part  of  the  "we"  that  he  spoke  of  .  "  thank  you  .  "  she  repeated  ,  directing  her  words  toward  the  sheriff  who  stood  a  few  steps  away  .  she  could  see  the  guilt  on  his  shoulders  from  where  she  stood  recognizing  that  burden  ,  a  twin  to  the  guilt  she  carried  .  it  was  a  shadow  that  would  linger  long  after  the  mourners  had  dispersed  and  the  echoes  of  the  funeral  faded  into  memory  .

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"Us?" She wanted to laugh. "Last I checked, I was the one serving 10 years." She only served 5. Her escape came by way of a fake death certificate and a corpse that did not belong to her. It took months to prepare. Everything from bribing the doctors and the guards, to practicing how to slow her breathing and heart rate. As far as the warden knew, Alcina Montessori died in her cell.

Alcina wondered how he was not dead before her still. While she was inside her cell, the ideas of revenge kept her going. She already knew she wanted to escape, but did not have the proper tools and connections to do so. So, she dreamed. All of that only for him to still be left standing. Perhaps she was more sentimental than she thought. "Show me." She said. Her tone was calm, linear. No notes betrayed even a hint of interest or disinterest. "You said you have proof, and I want to see it."

𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒂𝒚  𝒔𝒉𝒆  looked  at  him  now  ,  cut  deeper  than  any  blade  ,  more  piercing  than  a  bullet  ever  could  .   their  past  held  memories  ,  that  one  lie  and  misjudged  hesitation  ruined  in  a  matter  of  seconds  .  "  I  did  some  digging  while  you  were  gone  .  I  have  proof  that  oswald  set  you  up  —  us  up  .  "  he  delivered  the  news  with  the  urgency  of  a  man  teetering  on  the  edge  ,  afraid  his  heart  would  beat  out  of  his  chest  if  he  stared  at  her  eyes  any  longer  .  dark  and  full  of  anger  —  burned  with  the  fury  of  a  thousand  suns  ,  directed  solely  at  him  .  "  i  would  never  betray  you  .  "  he  continued  ,  desperation  lacing  his  voice  .  "  which  leads  me  to  believe  my  apartment  was  bugged  that  night  .  i  need  to  get  as  close  to  him  as  possible—get  in  and  find  whatever  evidence  will  clear  your  name  .  "  voice  usually  a  rough-hewn  whisper  ,  softened  —  a  tone  reserved  only  for  her  ,  even  when  she  loathed  every  fiber  of  his  being  .  "  and  I  can't  do  this  if  you  don't  trust  me  .  "  it  wasn't  a  question  ,  but  a  confession  that  kept  him  up  at  night  .

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"Fine." Rebecca had no more energy to argue with the man. Despite his annoying nature and the incessant need to slap him, Rebecca actually thought he was kind of cute. A passing fancy, surely. The woman turned around, grabbing a rag and beginning to clean the bar.

Rebecca tried to ignore the feeling creeping in her bones. As a siren, they needed to spend sometime in the ocean. Their body called for it. Water was like their life's blood, without it they could die. Rebecca had ignored her need for about a week now, and it was beginning to show. She had one problem though. She was usually the one to lock up, after which she would take a dip in the ocean. She had a bag prepared with new clothes and everything. But Vinny decided to stay. Rebecca wondered if he would follow her or continue to annoy her. "Check the back. Make sure everything locked. And then we lock up." It was an order, not a suggestion.

"I'm gonna ask you something." Rebecca began. "Why take this job, if you clearly hate it?"

no. no, he hadn’t been listening. not actively, at least. the majority of it had to deal with rebecca being… very pretty, but part of it was that vinny didn’t really care. working in the service industry was just going to be a short phase in his life: his father would give him his credit cards back when he felt satisfied that his son walked in the shoes of the working man, and then vinny would return to his life of engineering classes and playing fortnite all night. it was all temporary, so sue him for not caring as much as he should’ve. leaning against the ice well, his arms had crossed over his lean torso and he only noticed rebecca’s tirade was over a moment after she dismissed him. well… he didn’t want to leave. he didn’t want to close up, but he didn’t want to leave her, either. what if someone tried to rob the restaurant? nevermind the fact that he was only about a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, he was supposed to be the man in their situation. the protector… whatever that meant. all of that maschilismo came from his father and his uncles’ influence, and truth be told, rebecca would probably be saving him in a dangerous situation. “no, i’ll help you close up.” vinny declared, beginning to reach underneath the counter to empty the trash can before she could protest. “since i need to get my shit together.” see, he was listening!

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PLOTS INSPIRED BY VIDEO GAMES

1 . MUSE A and MUSE B were married but MUSE B disappeared years ago. Years later, MUSE A gets a letter / video / message of some kind, from MUSE B. The message is asking MUSE A to come pick them up. (RESIDENT EVIL 7)

2 . MUSE A and MUSE B were married but MUSE B died years ago due to an illness. Years later, MUSE A gets a letter / video / message of some kind, from MUSE B. The message is asking MUSE A to come pick them up. While there, MUSE A is faced with horrors beyond imagination. (Silent Hill 2) - Yes, i am aware it's the same plot but the vibes are different okay!?

3. MUSE A is an investigative journalist and they are trying to write a story in a famous asylum. The asylum is plagued by controversy and legend, MUSE A is determined to get to the bottom of it. MUSE B could be a patient in the asylum, a detective, a fellow journalist. (OUTLAST)

4. MUSE A and MUSE B are new employees at a mortuary. While working there, they are faced with horrors from the beyond. Some of them include, demons. Will they be able to banish these demons or will one of them get possessed? Who knows. (THE MORTUARY ASSISTANT)

5. MUSE A is the new recruit in one of the most infamous gangs in the city. MUSE B is a decorated members of it, and is tasked with teaching MUSE A the ropes. What they don't know, is that MUSE A has got a lot of ambition and wants to take over other territory in the city. (SAINTS ROW 1 & 2)

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Sᴏꜰɪᴀ Gɪɢᴀɴᴛᴇ ˢ¹ᵉ⁶

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ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ɪꜰ ᴜ sᴀᴠᴇ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ

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more icons about Sofia on my Pinterest: HERE

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HANNIBAL (2013 - 2015)

S3E9: And the Woman Clothed With the Sun

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2x01 "Kaiseki"

- Where does Winston go? - Home.

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"We're getting real sick of your mind games, lady!" David shouted. Irritation was high. The blonde was getting antsy. While he prided himself on being level headed, when David got scared there was no telling what could happen. He was like an animal being cornered, ready to tear anyone apart to get out. Eyes danced between Watson and Miguel, the vial still held tightly in his hand. He was not going to give it up, not if he could help it.

"These are not mind games, boy! You two have absolutely no idea who or what you're messing with!" The older woman shouted back, hands desperately trying to reach for the vial.

The window behind Watson shattered into a million pieces. The woman moved quickly, now standing in between the two hunters. A vampire crawled inside, eyes pitch black. "Oh shit..." David whispered. "RUN!" Watson shouted, hands grabbing at the two boy's shoulders and dragging them to the hallway.

Miguel tensed but didn't speak, his dark eyes fixed on Watson. She flinched, a flash of something raw crossing her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Good. Paranoia will keep you alive," she said, her words low but laced with iron. "Trust will not. I don't care what you think about me, but I won't sit and watch you die stupid." Her gaze locked on Miguel. "Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Miguel shifted uncomfortably but nodded. "I understand… maybe," he admitted, his accent thickening under stress. "But… what do we do? The vial? It's bad, no?"

Watson's laugh was dry and joyless. "You’re damn right it's bad. And now you're part of it, whether you like it or not. You've got targets painted on your backs. It won't matter if you trust me or not. The only ones you can count on are each other. But if you're smart, you'll walk out that door and disappear before they get their claws into you."

"Who?!," Miguel raised his voice. He was sick of these guessing games. How should they stay safe if they didn't know the enemy? "You said el diablo walks among us us? What does it mean."

Watson shook her head. "I said too much already. You're good boys, but this is too big for you. Give me the vial and leave. I can buy you some time."

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"Y-yeah that could work." Alcina wondered how she would survive prison, if she got a guilty conviction. No doubt she would crumble under the anxiety and fear. Even if she considered herself to be thick skinned, overtime it would all waste away. She feared even a good lawyer wouldn't get her out of it. "I just uh...I just need to calm down and talk to my lawyer." She ran a hand through her bangs. Fingers trembled as they met her flesh. Alcina clasped her hands together, in an effort to stop the shaking. Her entire system was in distress, but she tried to keep a straight face.

"I want to know why...why would anyone do this?" The dark haired woman asked. "They're gonna search my office tomorrow. They're already treating me like I'm guilty..."

She had come here cornered by whispers and glares, the mounting evidence tying her to a crime she didn't commit. And yet, here he was, offering salvation laced with a subtle menace. "No, no I don't," he shook his head, feigning an apologetic look, his voice honeyed poison, "But all it would take is one statement from me, isn't it? I could say we were together that night. Somewhere private, no other witnesses, but credible. It'd be airtight." His eyes gleamed, dark and knowing. He already had an alibi, but no one needed to know, not for as long as they were... aligned. And wouldn't she make a wonderful asset in his constant plays of power?

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Darcy gasped as she was picked up. She felt so light in his arms. One of the most attractive features of her husband's (expect everything, of course) were his arms and hands. Darcy always liked them, and she did not know why. As they stepped into the bedroom, it hit Darcy how warm it all felt. The absence of her other half was felt in more places than just her heart. Their bedroom, her studio, her day to day tasks felt meaningless unless she had him to tell.

Darcy thought about it for a moment. Maybe her request came too quickly. The want to jump back into old times was present. It was almost immediate. But Darcy had to think rationally this time. Not just for herself, but for their baby. One night of apologizing was not going to make up for all the strife, and anger they put each other through. Wounds don't heal in a day. They needed care to prosper, and so did they. "Stay...until I fall asleep." Darcy said. "We should take it slow. I think that uh...we have a lot of things we need to work through, but I also think we can do it."

Her laughter had been a sound he'd been craving. For the first time in far too long, he was bringing her happiness. He was still terrified of their future, but he was slowly getting the love of his life back. "We'll be okay," he repeated back to her. In a few short months, their entire lives would change. His life was falling apart without Darcy, but he assumed they were too far gone to bring back to life. If only he had tried sooner.

Archer's fingers wiped the tears on her cheeks. Eyebrows raised at her words. "What are you insinuating?" he teased her, his hand resting on her cheek. Standing up from the couch, Archer put his arms at her back and under her knees and lifted her up. He carried her to their bedroom. For the last year he'd slept in the guest room, and he never thought the day would come where he was back in this room (sober) with his wife. He carefully set her down. "I can stay until you fall asleep or I can stay all night. I don't want to overstep."

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David watched him walk out. Teeth ached in their places, eager to tear into flesh. Sometimes, David feared he would just pounce on someone, anyone who annoyed him. "That's good?" David asked with a dumbfounded look. He knew the question was out of line, but it simply slipped out. He threw a oil stained rag over his shoulder, eyes then falling on the brunette on her chair. His hand shot out, grabbing hers. "You're still doing that?" It was a habit. David always told his brother to not bite his nails, it was a nasty habit. It moved onto Elena, the need to take care of her.

"Elena, he seems like a real dick." The blonde said. "He doesn't yell at you like that does he?" The hypocrisy was not unknown to David. He knew he had no place to question her, or her relationship. But Theo presented himself to be more of a threat than a lover. The thought that he was yelling at her, hurting her or making her cry made him see red.

All the more reason to get her back. "Look, you can choose not to tell me but come on, the guy just blew his first impression."

The tension was palpable in her shop. A look of hate crossed Theo's own eyes. He was inching closer to Elena and David. He spun Elena towards him so she was now facing David, and his hand rested on her waist in an almost performative manner. A permanent smirk etched on his face. Elena hated Theo's possessiveness in front of David. She begged for the ground to swallow her up. "Theo, please, just let me do my job."

His innocent tone didn't hide the internal meaning behind David's words. Theo's hand tightened around her waist. David was already embedded under Theo's skin. "No, I've never had a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is you. I don't want you here." Theo's harsh tone had Elena's hands shaking. She hated fights. Her entire childhood was surrounded by it, and Theo was making her feel as small as she did back then. "Just leave, Theo. I need to get to work, and I can't with you acting like you're fucking four." Elena pulled away from his grasp. Theo huffed, and with one last glare at David, he stormed out the door.

After the door slammed, Elena sunk back into her chair and began chewing on her fingernails again. An anxious habit. "You just had to antagonise him, huh? I promise he isn't always like that. He's...he's good."