#&. // threads.

[bashfms]

"that's good, it's always good to keep busy." bash nods when mikey says that they always manage. he wonders how much of that is putting up a brave front, something he has plenty of experience with. "unfortunately, my schedule doesn't really allow for it this year. there's always next year!" he tries to put a good spin on it, like he always does with everything, but it's hard when he really wishes he could be with his family.

"oh, several plans, actually." mikey leaned their head on a closed fist, feeling tired just thinking about the upcoming days. "still have a handful of end of year parties to get through with the agency. but we'll manage, we always do." the last part they added knowing too well that bash was a serial worrier, in hopes of assuring him that they had it under control. "how about you? visiting family, or maybe they're coming over to the big apple?"

[greengideon]

starter: open @aurorabaystarter location: up to player

"Have you started thinking about your Halloween costume yet? I need to plan ahead this year and not just throw on a plaid shirt and call myself Paul Bunyan."

[edietello]

starter: open @aurorabaystarter location: beach bash, submergence set

"Before you ask, you can't 'bum one' off me," she says as she stands at the edge of the venue area, lighting up.

"I will, however, accept five dollars per cigarette if you're desperate enough."

[scottienolan]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: blue lagoon pool

"Okay, hold on, I got one --" Scottie proposes, taking a pause in her thought to lick the juice from her popsicle that's trailing down her hand.

"Fuck, Marry, Kill: Boy Band Edition. Harry Styles, Joe Jonas, Justin Timberlake."

[niaxbailey]

Nia's nose crinkled and a graceless bark of a laugh cut through what tiny space existed between them. "Excuse you. There are plenty of times I am not cute, and I know you know this. You've witnessed sleep-deprived Nia before. She's scary." The whisper of a laugh still colored her tone. Amused but serious all the same.

Her gaze lingered on the upturned corner of his mouth, affection dancing in her eyes. A low agreeing hum answered Levi as she righted herself. Leaned absently into his warmth, Nia's mind nearly blanked entirely the further up her thigh his hand skated. "Around the clock?" She echoed his phrasing with a low snicker, her fingertips quick to wrap around the stem of her glass. "I doubt either of us would get a lick of work done if I ever took you up on that." He was already distracting to have around the resort. The skitter of his breath across her skin and the idle brush of Levi's mouth against her shoulder was enough to inspire Nia to fully agree. The best course of action was getting rid of their drinks as soon as possible. Her first drink was a pretty big, swift gulp. Sugar swarmed her senses. The kind of sickly sweet that made you forget alcohol existed. It was very much the kind of cocktail she'd lived to regret during a bar crawl back home. As she swallowed it, Nia fished for her cell phone from a matching silver string clutch. "See." The woman briefly held up her phone to him so Levi could see her contact name for him. Then, their previous texts were closed out so she could pull up an app and summon them an Uber.

“I bet I won’t.” Levi paid no mind to any underlying inkling behind Nia’s words. She could try every deterrent in the book. Nothing would drive him away from the evident magnetic pull that existed without fail between them. The reprieve found within her earthy gaze and dazzling smile was something inexplicably remarkable.

Unable to help from meshing his lips firmly with Nia’s again, Levi lingered for as long as possible until they both broke with overt hesitation. A rogue grin plastered itself on his features, easily getting carried away when kissing her. Leaving a keen ache for more. Their lips just barely remained brushing against each other, deep blues trained on nothing but the sight before him. “— You’re never not cute as hell, you know that?” A clouded mind proved coming up with a much more elaborate term to describe her impossible. 

“It would appease your previous request faster.” Levi casually pointed out, albeit a small smirk hadn’t subsided. Personally he’d much rather be spending time just the two of them alone at this point, tangled up together. Once she slid an affectionate arm around his neck and fluidly moved into his lap, Nia’s ravishing frame pressing against him was nearly making him lose all awareness. A rugged hand proceeded slipping itself past a couple sparkling dress tassels, laying claim on the silky skin of her thigh. “Now this seat? Reserved around the clock for you.” Palming oover Nia’s themed drink over, his lips pressed themselves to her shoulder. 

[vanessagable]

starter for: @xaviermattthews location: their house. their wedding. october 18th, 2024.

Van had easily come to the conclusion that surprise weddings were the best way to get married because nothing could possibly ever replace the brand-new core memory of a house full of the people who were closest and most special to her gasping and cheering with joy when she and X announced that they weren't actually all gathered there for an engagement party.

They were all there for a wedding.

With the party joyously buzzing and with a kiss to X, Van had retreated to their bedroom with her mother and his so they could help her slip into her dress (that she'd bought before he'd ever proposed and had kept stashed in a garment bag in the back of her side of the closet).

She'd never been one for over the top -- taking her all of twenty minutes to get herself ready and collect her bouquet of magnolias in the kitchen. After a final hug and kiss with her mother (who was filling a double duty as the officiant), Van hid herself behind an opportune corner and waited for the simple guitar music to start and play her down the aisle.

There wasn't an ounce of nerves or jitters or stress on her face as she walked to him, beaming in her veil the whole damn way. Reaching the front of the gathering of loved ones in their backyard, Van's hand immediately moved to hold X's.

And she commits it to memory -- the most right and perfect her life has ever felt.

"Hey, cowboy," she greets playfully -- despite the fact it had been less than thirty minutes since they'd last stood next to each other.

[emilmoreno]

@kira-aminu Location: Beach Front, Emil's home. As the sun slowly set over the horizon, both Emil and his furry four-legged companion were sprawled across the sand just a skip and a hop from the front gate to his dwelling. Zero idea where his shoes were, or the last time he'd checked his phone - for the time, or an update from Kira on when she'd left to meet him. The man was exhausted in a way he couldn't recall being in a very long time, and he was kind of hoping perhaps the beach may just peacefully swallow him whole. At some point, the shadow of another human passed over him and blocked out the cotton candy rays of sunset that painted the sky. Emil squinted upwards, one eye still closed as he peered up at his company. "Hey there sunshine... don't mind me, I've just had a hard time talking myself into... moving, existing. Ya know." His laugh was a thick rumble in his chest. Belatedly the black and white ball of fur lazed beside him on the beach perked up and sounded Kira's arrival. "Some guard dog you are Herc..."

[knifeoverheart]

WHO: Open to all (@cardinalstart) WHAT: Nix seeks comfort in the familiar WHERE: The Stream Studio

Nix didn't have any shifts at the radio station that night, but he'd laid in bed for hours, sleep eluding him no matter how hard he tried. Finally, sometime around 5 in the morning, he gave up on sleep entirely. Getting dressed quickly, he left his apartment and headed for his secret hideaway — the Stream Studio. The owner of the place had lent him a key, and while he rarely used it, there were times like today, when it felt like his thoughts were moving a mile a minute and he needed a way to quiet his mind.

As soon as he entered the small dance studio, muscle memory took over, taking him through the different positions before moving into adagio. The room was silent, but Nix moved across the floor to a melody that only he could hear, not stopping even though his feet were screaming at him for going en pointe in sneakers. So caught up in the movements, he didn't notice he was no longer alone, until he spotted a figure in the doorway from the corner of his eye during an arabesque turn.

Startled, he almost lost his balance before quickly catching himself, chest heaving from his routine. He squinted at the doorway, trying to make out who it was, but it was difficult with the bright hallway lights turning them into little more than a shadowy figure. "Hey, uh," he greeted, reaching up to wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "I didn't think anyone else would be here at this time."

[ofsinnershq]

Xavier didn't see any real connections forming from an event like this, not deep romantic ones anyways, but he admired Charli for having some kind of hope either way. "I'll have to get the list from the club but yeah, I'll make you a copy. I haven't updated it in a few months though so it night not be 100% accurate right now, but I'll see what I can do." He promised. Maybe this event would help him knock off anything he was missing, or so one could hope. At the assumption about his customers, he nodded. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it?" He hummed. "But we see a variety of people come in. Married, dating, single, virgins — my job is to give them an experience, but that's not limited to one relationship status. But oddly enough, we see a lot of unavailable people come in alone, solely to get their rocks off to someone that's not their partner. And they tend to talk a lot once the clothes start coming off. I feel like a therapist most of the time."

"That's true." At this point, Charli knew pretty much everyone in this town and had landed on whether or not there was any kind of connection there. Not that she'd made it a mission to find anyone, she'd always been on the side of letting things happen naturally - if they were going to happen at all. "You have a running list of singles in this town? Mind if I take a look?" The question was meant as a joke but there was a small part of her that was possibly a little serious. "You know, I'd always thought it was the married ones that frequented your place the most, looking to spice things up."

[gcldendefender]

" Remember the distinguished innovator's competition ? - everything made sense then . "

Lev's JAYCE TALIS from Arcane and League of Legends. Primarily Arcane based.

Rules under the cut, for bio you can read his wiki

RULES -

basic ettiquette is expected: no godmodding, ic is not ooc, etc.

common triggering themes will be tagged

I am non selective, which means I am open to writing with anyone. Please don't feel like you have to know anything about my muse's canon to write with me. Feel free to send me a dm if you have questions about my muse or wish to plot first.

the best way to start writing with me is by sending me rp memes.

if you decide to unfollow me please (soft)block me

Mun is 23 and Belgian. Feel free to add me on Discord (aluminerd) or League (alltheleviathans in both NA and EUW)

[ferociiumarchive]

« file name: fairfield, dwight » @leadxxr

Danny wasn't unfamiliar to use carefully crafted words to get the reaction he wanted to from someone.  He used that very same tactic with Dwight too, instilling paranoia into his mind; making sure that even if he wasn't there the other could feel his presence all around him.  It had always been a game to him, until it wasn't anymore.  One, two, three unsteady steps taken on the tight rope he so often danced on, and the predator was falling for his own trap, falling in the unexpected hands of his prey.

A prey, something that Dwight hadn't been in such long time, not in Danny's eyes at least.  Time after time he could have put a stop to it, he could have left his own morbid curiosity unsatisfied and walk away; left the casket that his ribcage was still sealed shut, instead he allowed him to pry it open, to peer inside the deep void of his being and find pieces and bits of Danny that had been long lost, forgotten.  Time and time again, always letting his own guard down and allowing the survivors closer, as if there was something inside him yearning for it.  And now ?  Now it was too late to go back to the man he once was, even if he was to force the lid closed, it wouldn't never fit quite as it did, there would always be cracks letting such foreign feelings pouring out the moment his gaze would be cast upon the other.

Just like in this moment, when a little voice in the back of his head was telling him to retreat into the shadows and yet, all he could do was getting lost in the warmth of familiar brown eyes.  He moved then, hands cupping Dwight's face, claiming his mouth in a brief kiss before resting his forehead against the other's when he pulled away, eyes still closed.  " You make me feel. "  And that alone was such dangerous thing for a man so detached from humanity.  " You make me feel human, as if there are still pieces of me that are able to feel something more than the constant lust for blood. "  He pulled away then, eyes opening just so hazel hues could settle on Dwight.  An uncanny honesty reflected behind his own eyes, mixed with something else, uncertainty.  As if Danny was still fighting with himself; still doubting just how much he could say before it was too much for his own mind to accept, because once those words were out in the open, he couldn't pretend they weren't true, not to him. 

" You make me feel like I'm capable of loving you. "  He felt exposed, vulnerable even.  " And it drives me insane.  You poisoned me and I would let that happen again and again. "  He swallowed the lump in his throat.  " You are like an addiction that I can't never have enough of.  It's an high that. . .  I never felt before. "

Perhaps that was what love felt like for people like him.

[civanguneri]

Who: Open Where: Chapman's Grocer. It was only December fucking tenth. A week into December was all it took, and suddenly, you couldn't go anywhere without being elbow-to-elbow with people. The days leading up to Christmas seemed like its very own kind of virus, with people frazzled and shopping like it was just days before the holiday. Civan was in dismay as he navigated the isles he knew by heart, muttering to himself as he went. If he wasn't so particular about his vegetables he could just order for delivery, but he'd be out of sorts if things weren't just so. Overly ripe tomatoes made a difference. As did the gender of a bell pepper. "Of course—" He cut himself off, "Allah belanı versin." Civan rounded a particular stall in the fresh market section to a cart wall. A traffic jam, except, in the produce section of a grocery store. Two energetic middle-aged women stood there gabbing, carts facing each other as if the world should stop and rotate around them. The Zax. Instead of arguing, they were gossiping. He backtracked, begrudgingly making to go around them but instead, he felt himself bump into the cool metal of someone else's cart behind him. For a moment he froze, rod straight, and had to exhale the tension in a huff. Civan turned. Face a mask, frustration still boiling beneath the surface. "That way is blocked."

[mwrjorie]

starter fechado com @elecnora

emoji: ⛈️

a guarda acreditava que encontrar algumas respostas deixaria sua mente tão controlável quanto antes, mas o efeito que surtiu foi exatamente o contrário. apesar do clima não ter mudado com eleonora, suas questões se multiplicaram e seus pensamentos inadequados também. sentia cada vez mais dificuldade em disfarçá-los ou aprisioná-los no fundo de sua cabeça, precisando de mais trabalho para fugir disso. a sugestão de saírem do castelo veio da própria marjorie, uma visita na cidade. um tanto arriscado, mas já havia conversado com outros guardas para acompanharem-nas e aumentar a segurança. só esqueceu de conferir a previsão do tempo, o próprio céu dando a notícia de que seria impossível sair dali. "por deus..." murmurou ao parar na frente da janela, notando o céu cinza escuro, anunciando a chuva que cairia a qualquer momento. "nora... acredito que seja melhor cancelarmos nossos planos."

[charliexclayton]

who: paz and charlie ( @nullmocn ) where: the ranch

Call it whatever you want; torture, masochism, torment, self-flagellation… The truth was that there was always one person in the world who could make her feel shittier when she was already feeling like shit. Paz. Irritatingly hot, disgustingly cocky, and incredibly frustrating. If there was a face that demanded a punch every time she saw it, it was Paz’s face. Charlie never sought Paz out, she usually had too much self-respect than submit herself to another boring self-aggrandizing lecture about how all of Charlie’s shortcomings were somehow a personal problem for Paz. They had been paired up one time for one hunt that had gone horribly. But it was hardly Charlie’s fault that Sargeant Strap-on-for-brains and her had been too busy bickering about “protocol” (whatever the fuck that was in this town) to notice the change in terrain.

Charlie had helped the injured Paz back to town, ear bleeding from the incessant blame and the poor woman had been bedridden for two weeks. Honestly, bygones could have been bygones, but Paz had specifically requested never to work with a subpar hunter like Charlie again. What a load of bullshit, Charlie was a fucking stellar hunter. She was a shit friend though. Sometime when the light caught her hands, she could still see and feel Conor’s blood on them. Blood. So much blood.

Charlie thumped a fist against her forehead. Hard reset. Presently she was stumbling towards the ranch, having drunk an ungodly amount of some weirdly undisclosed potato juice, you know, the kind that made doubles of everything. It made doubles of the streetlights, doubles of the buildings, double of Conor reaching out for her… Another thump to the head. Focus Charlie, you’re on a mission.

The mission, of course, was to tell Paz what was what. And what was what? Well Charlie didn’t know yet, but the alcohol fueled logical thinking told her she’d figure it out once she got there. She was kind of starting to pick up that maybe the people that drank all the time in Arcadia were kind of on to something because this felt amazing. It was freshly dark out once she arrived at Paz’s doorsteps and the bells had just gone off.

“Knock knock,” she slurred out as she thumped on the door, “it’s me.” Charlie giggled, as if Paz, who hadn’t spoken more than two words to her since their last encounter, would know who ‘me’ was. Undeterred, Charlie continued her incoherent drunk rambling. “Don’t worry, I’m not a monster, though I suppose that’s what a monster would say. Are you going to let me in? – shiiiit I think the monsters would say that too. They’re probably watching me right now actually, but it’s okay they’ve made it veryyyy clear that they’re not going to kill me yet, after all I’m so useful to them, getting everyone else hurt or killed—oh! Purple monkey on a dishwasher, I don’t think a monster would say that… Anyway Paz, I gotta pee, can you please let me in. It’s CharChar, Charmander, Charizard…”

[mcthmancometh]

FEATURING.  Open. LOCATION.  Flurry Festival; near the craft vendors. TIMESTAMP.  17 December 1988; evening.

August couldn't say he was particularly surprised that the Festival seemed to be proceeding the same as it had any other year. Most people seemed far too willing to pretend nothing was happening if it wasn't right in front of their face, like ignoring it would make it go away. But there was only so much ignoring that could be done and the twinkling lights and Christmas carols couldn't quite drown out the pervasive whispers, all of them talking circles about the same damn thing. As for August, he couldn't give two flying fucks about Baylor Dawson — he doubted Baylor even knew his name — but that didn't mean there was nothing to be learned about the town's broader situation through the good ol' fashioned rumor mill. He'd more or less perfected the art of eavesdropping by now. It wasn't so hard when more often than not, he tended to be one of those things people liked to ignore in the hopes it would go away. But he knew the best way to be unassuming was to just look like you were so absorbed in something else, you couldn't possibly be paying attention to anything around you. And that was how August ended up at a picnic table not too far off the main thoroughfare, making mental notes of the snippets of conversation he heard go by as he focused very hard on the stark black ink he was stabbing into the sickly yellow skin of a lemon he'd nicked from a booth where someone'd been making wassail on the other side of the Festival's setup. He figured it was only a matter of time before someone actually took notice of him, considering he spent his whole life being either invisible or an eyesore with very little in between, and sure enough, he was about halfway through the intricate snowflake he was freehanding when the familiar chill ran down his spine. It was a cold that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with being watched. He didn't react outwardly, instead trying to assess for a second. Alive, he decided. Those kinds of stares always felt heavier. "I can do you too, if you want," he called, a casual acknowledgement that he was just as aware of them as they were of him. He finished the line he was working on before looking up, the quirk of his eyebrow almost a challenge. "I got fresh needles."