#[[ I hope this is ok!! ]]

[spockfallsinlove]

Prompt: Spock’s hands are injured and since Vulcan hands are so sensitive he can’t help but cry about it

"Shit," Jim is saying, over and over, as he digs the salve out of his bag. "Shit, hang on, shit—"

Spock, for his part, is biting down on his cheek so hard that he tastes blood, his hands held out in front of him and shaking. The burns aren't severe, but the pain is enough for his telepathic bonds to be burned themselves.

The storm rages outside the cave they've found themselves in. Lightning had struck as they were running to find shelter, causing a fire. Jim was trapped and Spock didn't give it a second thought when he pulled the burning debris off of Jim, his hands scalding from the embers.

"Jim," he croaks out, his voice shaking despite his best efforts. He doesn't know what he's asking for.

Jim uncaps the salve, hands steady as he scoops out a dollop. "This will hurt," he says. "I'm sorry."

Spock grits his teeth and lets out a small cry of pain as Jim, as careful as he is, painfully applies the salve to the burns dotting Spock's fingertips. Jim then wraps each finger in medical tape, wincing at every hiss and sharp breath that Spock takes.

"The comms," Spock manages to get out, "are they—"

"Still down because of the storm." Jim sits back on his heels, face pale and drawn. He wipes his forehead with his arm. "Damn it, Spock. I'm sorry."

"It's of no consequence," Spock lies, biting down harder on his cheek. The pain is mounting; not just the burn, but the lack of feeling he has in his hands. It's like he's been thrown into the dark with nothing but fire and pain to accompany him.

Something in his face must betray the true extent of his pain because Jim suddenly looks stricken, eyes wide. Spock realizes, belatedly, that there are tears streaming down his cheeks.

"What can I do?" Jim asks, his voice steadier than the panic Spock sees in his eyes.

"I cannot—" Spock sucks in a breath. Tries to steady himself, unsuccessfully. "Without touch..."

Jim nods, like he understands. With Spock, he always seems to understand. "Your telepathy. It's dependent on your hands."

"Yes. It's..." Spock squeezes his eyes shut at another wave of pain. "The burns are painful. But the lack of connection to my environment may be... worse."

Jim grips Spock's wrists, which are undamaged from the flames. It's like a balm over Spock's wounds; an anchor in the darkness. Jim's expression is intent. "What about my touch? Does it help?"

Spock could sigh with relief. It's like he's found home again, after groping in the dark for so long. "Yes," he says, gratefully.

Jim's hands grip just a fraction tighter, his fingers imprinting into Spock's skin. "Then I will continue to do so, as long as you need it."

The pain is already receding, Spock falling into the comforting warmth that is Jim's presence. "That may be a very long time," he says, a little more honestly than he would like.

Jim smiles. He releases one of Spock's wrists, but only to run a thumb across Spock's temple. "Forever, if you need it," he promises softly.

[moodboard-creator]

a chromecore moodboard, requested by anon

[grtivas]

"what do you do for fun, taash? aside from feed birds, i mean." rook likes taash a lot; they want to get to know them better. the archer respects their bluntness for they often teeter the line between sarcasm and bluntness themselves. so far, spending time with taash has allowed rook a break here and there—helping with taash's feelings on their identity, visiting their mother, feeding the birds, awkward family dinners rook never got to experience. "i think we could both use something to get our minds off things." @perditus

[mvximized]

closed starter: @expirednostalgia (ripley bc we don't have anything 4 them yet) location: like a cafe prolly

"there's my favorite rockstar! god it feels like forever since i've seen you. how have you been? whats new?" max gushed, getting up from her seat to wrap her arms around the other. "i've been meaning to ask you when your next show is. i'd love to go again. you fucking shredded last time!" she spoke. she wasn't exaggerating either. she was so happy to support her friend and it was so easy because ripley was simply good at what they did. max especially valued her time with ripley because he always took her mind off things, even while being brutally honest when they did it.

[embodies]

❛ we should feel something. we've killed and it's murder. ❜ — @deathmarked. ( amélie lacroix / genji shimada )

BONES AND ALL PROMPTS. ACCEPTING.

he gives pause to her statement, never one to reply brashly and without adequate thought and reflection. his journey has been a poignant one : from the shimada clan to near death, blackwatch to talon. sometimes he queries whether his life could have turned out differently, then envisages the whirlwind he has always been caught up in. he is the eye of the storm. but to feel something, an impossible task. he is cyborg, destined to kill — until all things turn to rust. to be enhanced and modified to talon's needs, an unstoppable agent the same as she. for they are two humans made unto weapons, he the blade and she the scope. together, their force is limitless. who would have guessed their idle coffee talks consisted of this ? they have killed, this is fact. but feeling, that is an ever more subjective thought he is not necessarily privy to. not anymore. hasn't felt for a long time.

❛ since when are you concerned with anything we should do ? ❜

quirk of his brow is not visible beneath his visor but he likes to think the cant of his head that accompanies betrays his idle curiosity. the infamous widowmaker, surely not experiencing guilt ? it is tantalising to consider though, for if she is capable of emotions ( she who killed her own husband, ever so similar to the shimada that left his brother for dead ) then perhaps he is, too. these musings may be revisited later however, in private. he'll be damned to reveal such vulnerabilities to another agent.

❛ don't tell me you're going soft. after all we've done. ❜

[taleswritten]

@writtenxbeginnings sent 🙌 Push/Shove my muse (Stiles/Lydia)

nonverbal prompts||accepting

Lydia gasps as suddenly his hands shove against her and she goes colliding into a wall, grunting as her back hits the wall and her eyes widen in surprise. "Stiles!" It had only been to protect her, she's not yelling at him out of anger but instead of surprise.

The werewolf's claws are heading straight for Stiles and suddenly, like always, Scott comes out of nowhere and shoves the wolf himself. It would be no match for Scott so Lydia relaxes with a breathy exhale.

Except, they have another problem. Her hand is pressed to her side where claws ripped through fabric and right side, leaving the blood to pour through fabric and her palm and fingers. It won't turn her, it's not a bite, but it's a pretty deep wound. "S-Stiles..."

[blindspct]

closed starter for @milkteethss ft. carissa & benji

carissa wasn't always busy planning weddings and so, when she wasn't doing that, she liked to do what she could to help people and for the past couple of months, she'd been taking care of benji's child. of course it wasn't just his but...it may as well had been considering he seemed the only present parent. though, it wasn't her place to step in or comment on the woman's absence. she was simply just here to help. she'd already laid the kid down for the night when she heard the front door open, her brows immediately furrowing. "i-what are you doing back?" she asked. it was their wedding anniversary and the last thing she expected was to see anyone back before at least nine, and even that seemed early. she pushed herself up from the couch and shifted toward him, "everything okay?"

[gcholdtrops]

test muse starter for : @sturmboe

      "  how  come  you  don't  just  want  to  get  caught  ?  "

[thursdaygrl]

closed starter for @lvciddreamt

"i don't wanna hear any whining when i kick your ass, okay? the wnba isn't constantly blowing up my phone for nothin'."

[pytndyer]

closed starter for @romanphoenix / location: tidal wave music shop

Peyton flipped over the album he was holding, unsure if he should purchase it. He put the album back down when his eye caught the face of Roman Phoenix. He had seen him around town, but had never approached. His crush was apparent though. He was quick to move to a section closer to him, pretending to be looking through the albums with interest.

"What's your favorite rock album?" Peyton asked, alluding to the genre that he was in front of him as he was essentially across from Roman. "Or is rock not your thing?"

[musingmemories]

Actions and Consequences

@5ofhearts-chris

Routine will take you further than willpower. Down to the most finite detail, Wendy had grown up learning that discipline was a strength, and preferred to keep her mind clear and spirit pure because of the weapon she possessed. The Ace of Spades was an heirloom, a blessing or a curse depending on the user, and Wendy could only hope to one day to make her father proud. This time...this time...a mantra every time the card was played, the sword secured in its sheathe. Wendy's skills with a sheathed blade were often times unrivaled, and Love and Peace's spirit wasn't needed. But there were times her alter-ego was called.

This time will be different.

This time she'd be the one in control.

The card weighed heavily against the fabric of her breast pocket, as though carrying the very soul of the sword and the lives it had taken, the blood that had spilled. Usually the burden disappeared the second she stepped into the High Card automobile company, Finn yelling in surprise from learning something new, Vijay there with a soft smile and her cup of tea ready to go. The air was different, quiet, and Wendy hesitantly gathered her hair into that signature ponytail, glasses adjusting. "You seem serious...is there a mission for me?" She asked Leo, just as the door opened.

"Actually, this mission is for both of you." Leo said with a thoughtful hum.

Wendy expected to turn and find Vijay, anxiety swelling in the pit of her stomach and heartbeat skipping when her gaze locked with the person she would be partnered with instead: Chris.

[tabithaxking]

who: @alaraxdemir where: country night at oasis, women's bathroom

"Occupied!" Tabitha called out as someone banged on her stall. Stood on the closed toilet lid, she huffed her weed smoke out the window in hopes to not trigger any smoke alarms. The last thing anyone needed was for this to turn into a wet tshirt contest.

The blonde had been hogging the stall while she sparked up and tried to calm her nerves. It took a lot of strength to not pack it up and head home, but this was a night of freedom. Something so rare that it needed to be enjoyed.

The weed she bought from some loser outside was shit, but it was doing the job. Another knock and Tabitha yelled back. "Unless you want a hit, you'll have to wait your turn!"

[grtivas]

tired and unable to sleep, rook heads to the kitchen. desperate times call for desperate measures—rook's looking to make some tea, a drink they often grimace at the taste of in the same way they once did at the taste of coffee before they trained themselves to like it. they sigh and lean their palms flat against the kitchen counter as they wait for the water to boil, and it's as they do so that they hear a door open. lucanis. they turn their head to the side slightly, not enough to get a good look but enough to acknowledge his presence. "hey," rook mumbles, then they turn their attention back to the kettle on the stove. "can't sleep. want some tea?" @furhelden

[ozziesjester]

Hi i saw your post and

Perhaps some headcanons for my thunderboy? *ash from pokemon*

-cloudys-selfships

hi omg !! headcanons for ya boy ash coming right up !

i feel like he's really big on telling you how proud he is of you every chance he can! he likes to celebrate tiny accomplishments of yours, his love language is words of affirmation :3

you know dates between the two of you always have to involve your pokemon. Always. if he can't bring pikachu then it Isn't Happening. good thing your lead pokemon get along as well as you and ash do though!

he'll keep you well fed! he might not look like it but he's a killer chef and loves to cook for you !! something he might've picked up from his mom, perhaps?

speaking of eating, you ever just forget to eat or drink water? well, not anymore! he makes extra sure you're taking care of yourself, and if you're having a rough day and can't do it on your own he gladly volunteers his help!

[ithinkitscami]

closed starter for: @raleigh-reese / location: home / after the carnival blues

Camille was in need of some sisterly time so she was glad that Raleigh was home at night, for once. She had spent her evening out on the patio before she headed back in making her way towards Raleigh's room. Knock knock. "I'm coming in." She walked inside Raleigh's room and plopped herself on the bed next to her. "I need some advice." She stated. The carnival had passed and her head was somewhat clearer than before, but not so. She at least had Raleigh to talk some sense into her if that's what she needed.

[rising-angelx]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ for @fieldofdeisies

dahye knew it was cliché, walking into a bar hoping drowning her demons in alcohol would actually work. but she thought it matched her melodrama just fine. it was never something she ever wanted to do, turn to drinking or going out, seeking solace in the anonymous bodies of others to attempt to avoid the problems that plagued her. but she couldn’t run from thoughts that lived in her mind anymore than she could run from the people she had found entangled in the web of her life. what she could do, however, was pretend for just a little while. she could make the thoughts run together until they were indiscernible enough to let her worries float away. hide from the few who recognize her in the throngs of those that don’t, just another face with an unknown story. 

so, for the third time that week, she found herself walking through the neon threshold into a dim club, all strobes and shadows and smoke. busy enough to allow anonymity while small enough to make an easy escape. she made her way to the bar, managing to find a seat amongst the patrons coming and going. she ordered her first jack and coke of the night, sliding her card across the sticky surface of the bar to keep a tab running, unconcerned for the effect it may have on her bank account or her state of mind. one thing vices mix well with are more vices, but slipping a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her jacket, she was dismayed to find nothing inside. angel audibly huffed. why would she keep an empty pack in her pocket in the first place?