#( interactions. ☼ )
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Open Starter for all mutuals || Silly drunk Caleb inspired by this video
The potent effects of the many, many ales he had consumed throughout the evening were quite apparent in the deep, rosy flush that spread across Caleb's freckled cheeks, giving him a charmingly disheveled appearance. His ginger hair tousled and unkempt, evidence of a carefree state so unlike his usual brooding demeanor. With each slurred word, his thick accent became even more pronounced, a result of his lowered inhibitions. "You see," he explained passionately for what was likely the third or fourth tangent in the span of an hour, "it is all about the somatic components." His hand gestured wildly as he continued to ramble on, completely enthralled by his own thoughts and theories. "Magic is a lot like cats," Caleb trailed off, losing his line of thought very quickly, perhaps growing a bit distracted simply thinking of cats instead. "I’m… I’m not entirely sure where I was going with that, but it made perfect sense within my head."
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start for @featherstcnes <333
As impressive as Caleb’s tower was, the artificial light of an extra-dimensional magic space could never compare to the beauty of a natural sunrise. With crystal blue eyes fluttering open, Dorian's thoughts immediately turned to the warm rays of sunlight he craved right now. Only for a moment, though, before he felt the weight of the familiar halfling in his arms, and his attention quickly shifted to Orym instead, peacefully sleeping, curled into his side. May I simply hold you? That’s right, Dorian remembered now. Orym sleeping—it was a rare sight, as Dorian had known Orym for quite some time now and never once had the halfling slept in past, well, any of them. Always the first one awake, always keeping watch, even at the expense of himself. And Dorian had certainly noticed the growing dark circles under his friend’s green eyes, even if he never spoke of them.
A soft light across Orym's peaceful face and Dorian felt a wave of fresh affection wash over him. The halfling looked so serene, his features relaxed and untroubled, a stark contrast to the alert and vigilant demeanor he usually carried. The trust Orym must place in him like this, allowing himself this moment of vulnerability, knowing that Dorian would watch over him as he rested. His mind drifted to the heartfelt conversation they had shared the night before, words echoing in his mind like a gentle melody. He felt terrified. He felt excited. He wanted to protect Orym, to be there for him, to ensure that he never had to carry the weight of the world alone.
As the minutes ticked by, the bard remained still, savoring the feeling of Orym's warm body pressed against his own, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft puffs of breath tickling his skin. Eventually, Dorian felt him begin to stir, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from the depths of slumber. The genasi watched as Orym's eyes, still hazy with sleep, blinked open, gradually focusing on his surroundings. The flutter of nerves returned and danced in Dorian's stomach and he briefly considered giving Orym some space to fully wake up. But the sight of his tousled curls and tired expression pulled Dorian in and he took a deep, steadying breath. His hand instinctively continued to card through Orym's hair as he softly whispered, "Good morning, Orym."
#( hi personal blogs: i know you guys are excited right now but please do not like or reblog my writing if you're not an rp blog! )#☼*・゚ Friends — ↳ featherstcnes#☼*・゚ Interaction — ↳ orym of the air ashari#☼*・゚ Verse — ↳ bells hells#☼*・゚ Muse — ↳ dorian storm#( anyways... take two lol )
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SETTING ― Latte Love, afternoon ! AVAILABILITY ― Open ! ( Capping at 4 ) !
It was peaceful. That had been Moshe’s initial impression of Blue Harbor when he’d finally taken the plunge that following Nilay halfway across the world had warranted. There was really no telling whether he'd make the decision to leave any time soon― he doubted his perpetual wanderlust would pull him away from Blue Harbor considering the fact that he seemed to find more and more reasons to stay with every passing day. It wasn’t as though he had a deep aversion to packing up and leaving if that was something that needed doing— it was more that his time in the United States had offered him a freedom he’d not yet allowed himself to experience in life and he was all too willing to take advantage of it as long as he possibly could. Freedom that had found him, at that present moment, shifting in a cafe chair outside of Latte Love, grading papers for the most recent assignment he'd given his first year students.
“Ah, good try, mate,” Moshe found himself murmuring under his breath as he wrote a few detailed comments beneath the final paragraph of the paper in question. He admired the effort his students were willing to put into their work and hoped it was in part due to even the barest hint of respect they’d developed for him since he’d become their teacher. He found himself blinking owlishly at the sight of a phone number scribbled at the end of one of his student’s papers and shook his head firmly as an almost startled laugh erupted from him just loud enough to catch the attention of someone near him. He raised a hand and smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry about that– I hope I didn’t startle you. Perhaps you can help me? What’s a fellow to do to turn a student down incredibly gently when they seem to have a crush on him? I’m really quite concerned I’ll accidentally reduce her to tears or something.”
#( interactions. ☼ )#( starters. ☼ ) open.#starter.bh#/feel free to assume connections or shoot me a DM to plot!#/and don't feel like you need to match length kgjsdabg i am once again yapping
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ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ open starter ;
no apartamento de jihoon.
˚。 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ━━ para de se mexer! ━━ shiwon resmungou, mas havia uma risada escapando por entre as palavras. tinha um pincel de tinta rosa neon na mão, algumas gotas já tinham pigado no chão, mas outras pesssoas já tinham feito desenhos no piso, então não estava muito preocupado. não que fosse um dos desenhistas mais habilidosos do mundo, mas shiwon sabia desenhar uma coisa ou outra. ━━ prometo que não vou desenhar um pênis na sua cara, nem nada do tipo. ━━ acrescentou, entre uma risada mais pronunciada. de fato, era só uma flor inocente.
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i genuinely love my mutuals because you are here to listen to me ramble about my oc who i am in love with myself &. also show her just as much interest as you do with felicia &. i am just really grateful for that 💛
#☼ ⊰ ooc. › deax rambles. ❜#everyone watch out deax is being sappy again!!!#bc seriously as someone who adores ffxiv story & the lore i have come up for sarastus: BUT ALSO LOVE MOST OF ALL exploring her in different#verses & interacting with your characters & plotting stuff in depth is just so *chef's kiss*#I ADORE YOU GUYS SM OKAY THANK U FOR YOUR TIME
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starter for @blademasterdior.
where: somewhere in boreana, juno's reach
when: during neptunalia, after the gladiator event, but not like right after
note: gladiator bois
The gladiator match had incensed the hundreds within Juno's Reach; a palpable passion that rivaled a thin line of merely being out for blood. A Lysaran always enjoyed a proper show and rumors soon began to swirl through the partying crowds about everything Julian had missed out on. Wherever Dior was to be found, there was often a dense crowd swarming him, fawning over a gladiator who'd been well known, and sometimes borderline infamous, for generations. He'd taught Julian the very essence of such shows; a sanguinary ritual that warranted the spilling of a blood, but a show all the same.
It was late in the evening and he'd found Dior, perhaps supplementing his pride, in the heart of one of the various celebrations that swirled throughout Boreana. Some quietly skirted around the gladiator, others bowed their heads as though in solemn shame, and others still venerated Dior on the pedestal he'd rightfully claimed after so many years of fighting. Julian wasn't interested in bringing up the clashing opinions the crowd on the isle currently had for Dior; dozens still cried he was their fan favorite and others seemed cross at a result that didn't result in a blood frenzy.
Julian mustered a smile, something that matched the often blazing energy of the other, "Dior! I've been looking all over for you since the tournament ended." He'd served his purpose with working the crowd prior to the tournament, but Julian truthfully hadn't stuck around to watch the blood spill, "You're supposed to be celebrating!" Julian's voice lowered as many filtered around them, appearances were crucial to gladiator's even long after the curtain was called on a match. "Had someone really tried to snatch Lady Ilithyia's wig?" Julian had been curious about that one; in the nearly six short years he'd served as a fighter in the gladiator ring, no one had tried such show.
#☼ − interactions.#☼ − feat: dior.#dior 001.#☼ − e: neptunalia.#☼ − location: queenset isles. / lysara.
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@rosecrowned asked: "Touch me, and I swear you will never be the same."
Aegon ’s lips curled into a sly smile as Margaery Tyrell's challenge hung in the air, her words dripping with boldness. She was toying with him, he knew, but it only stirred something darker within him—a mix of amusement and temptation.
Without hesitation, his hand shot forward, fingers curling beneath her chin, tilting her face so their eyes met. There was no softness in his grip, only the silent power that came from being a king and knowing that nothing—no one—could deny him if he wished otherwise. Her skin was warm against his fingers, her defiance barely masking the tension between them.
His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment, then traveled the length of her body, admiring her frame in the faint candlelight of the room. "I know I won't be the same," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. His thumb brushed her chin, a subtle reminder of his control. "But neither will you."
For a heartbeat, they were locked in place, the air between them charged with something raw, untamed. He let his gaze flicker back to her eyes, dark and unreadable, before the corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk. “You started this, Lady Tyrell. Don't think you can simply walk away now.”
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𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩 )
☼ dossier ft. allison.
☼ interactions ft. allison.
☼ character development ft. allison.
☼ musings ft. allison.
☼ visage ft. allison.
☼ ask memes ft. allison.
☼ tasks ft. allison.
☼ all posts ft. allison.
#☼ dossier ft. allison.#☼ interactions ft. allison.#☼ character development ft. allison.#☼ musings ft. allison.#☼ visage ft. allison.#☼ ask memes ft. allison.#☼ tasks ft. allison.#☼ all posts ft. allison.
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@yellowfingcr
"Can I bite you. Please?"
"why."
#said exactly like in the gollum game#|| ☼ | ᴘʀᴏғᴇssɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ [] interactions | ☼ ||#yellowfingcr
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random little thing for @stlispenard
julia knew from the start that this wouldn't be an easy task, asking for everyone to come back together for a little reunion. throughout her documentation it was obvious that there was still some bad blood between the band, most notably her dad and eddie and whatever the fuck had been going on between him and daisy. but out of everyone she hadn't expected uncle graham to be the most firm.
her face fell at the first "no" and then he went on to explain that he was completely devoted to his own kids, he didn't want to stir the pot again. the six was over, that chapter of his life was finished. julia knew that he had always wanted kids, he had doted on her whenever she was in the studio waiting for her dad to finish up whatever he was doing and listening to him and karen recount their story was definitely one of the more awkward moments. still though, this was her uncle. surely she could think of something.
#☼ julia dunne#remember our one interaction on twitter? yeah#the muse is back and i don't wanna waste it <3#stlispenard#julia's like that's fair but consider#puppy dog eyes
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starter for @featherstcnes || caleb & beau
No matter how much he tries to feel at ease, Caleb will never shake the feeling of being out of place in this comfortable home on the streets of Rexxentrum. His cottage is a quaint and charming place, evoking memories both fond and painful of his childhood home. His friends have put in a great deal of effort to create a warm and inviting atmosphere within its walls. Colorful artwork from Jester adorns the walls, vibrant and playful. Yasha's thoughtful touch can be seen in the fresh array of flowers. The aroma of Caduceus' teas tucked away in his cabinet. Little notes from Essek, scattered about his office.
And upon his counter, a sending stone. Though it currently serves no purpose, with its other half resting idly in the possession of someone currently lounging in his kitchen. Caleb's culinary skills leave much to be desired, a fact he has quickly learned since moving out on his own. The proof of this in the lackluster stew he passes across the table to Beauregard, catching the way she looks at it. He has never claimed to be a good cook—a young Bren never learned how, and Caleb never needed to learn.
“We should discuss what we are going to do now, Beauregard.” Months have passed since Ikithon's trial, and both he and Beauregard are aware this would never end with Trent alone.
#☼*・゚ Friends — ↳ featherstcnes#☼*・゚ Interaction — ↳ beauregard lionett#☼*・゚ Verse — ↳ the mighty nein#☼*・゚ Muse — ↳ caleb widogast#( about 2-3 months after trent's trial and a couple months before the uk'otoa reunion one shot )#( let me know if this works! )
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@featherstcnes asked: "❛ you can always ask me for help if you need it. ❜" // caring prompts;; open
Dorian's gaze drifted to the darkening sky, the first stars twinkling like distant lanterns. The cool evening breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine, a fragrance that reminded him of home and days of his youth. He sighed deeply, thoughts consumed by the recent encounter with his brother, Cyrus. It had been years since they last saw each other, and the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air. He feared for his brother's safety now and while not unhappy to see him, it carried complicated feelings.
But Orym's familiar presence beside him was a comforting anchor in the midst of troubled thoughts. The halfling's kind eyes and gentle demeanor radiated warmth and understanding. "Thank you, Orym," Dorian turned to face his friend, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I appreciate your support more than you know," the bard said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just… seeing Cyrus again, realizing the danger he's in now… it's a lot to process. I want to help him, but I don't know where to start. And I don’t want to put our new friends in danger either."
#☼*・゚ Friends — ↳ featherstcnes#☼*・゚ Interaction — ↳ orym of the air ashari#☼*・゚ Verse — ↳ bells hells#☼*・゚ Muse — ↳ dorian storm#( AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH )#( jess i'm scared lol )
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― SETTING: chilled creamery stall, blue harbor pride ! ― AVAILABILITY: closed starter for nilay bailey ! ( @doctornilaybailey )
It was a good day; a simple observation with several meanings but Moshe was grateful for it all the same― their earplugs had made the noise and chaos of things more joyful than distressing and Nilay's presence at their side offered the same calm it always had― something they cherished, tucked close to their heart in the gentlest parts of them. Still, with all of the people around and the fact that they were at least seventy to eighty percent certain they'd been flirted with a truly baffling number of times ( which they'd tried to express in the face of Nilay clearly fighting her laughter until Moshe had grumbled something unintelligible and went about trying to find the ice cream stall ) - they were grateful to have a moment to breathe. They glanced at Nilay from the corner of their eye, fingers fiddling absently with a few of the newly gathered, rainbow rubber bracelets on their wrist, "Are you quite finished?" Moshe asked, the smile on their face softening the question entirely. "I think you might get more joy out of people flirting with me than I do, really. Or..." They trailed off, nose scrunching. "Honestly, I'm not even positive they were. Were they?"
#( interactions. ☼ )#( interactions. ☼ ) nilay bailey.#( event. ☼ ) blue harbor pride.#nb.001#event.bh#/who knows what the hell this is but i'm doing my best ;~;
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ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤopen starter .
plot drop pt II, quarto do hotel.
˚。 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ shiwon não era do tipo que achava horários inapropriados para qualquer coisa. toda sua vida parecia funcionar em horários inapropriados, de todo jeito. assim, não se importava com muse batendo na porta de seu quarto tarde da noite. estava sozinho agora. o vizinho com quem estivera dividindo inicialmente acabou indo ficar na casa de um parente, o que deixou o quarto do para o enfermeiro. depois de servir salgadinhos e avisar que muse podia se servir das cervejas ou refrigerantes que estavam no frigobar, pegou o maço de cigarros e o isqueiro e foi para a pequena varanda do quarto. não era fumante assíduo, mas estava fumando mais do que de costume desde o incêndio. ━━ acha que vamos voltar para casa logo ou o prédio vai ser condenado de vez?
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@florietiae asked: ❝ ❛ we always loved this place, didn’t we? ❜ / charlie/puppet @ GF / cassidy! ❞
Oh, at a time it had been the only place Cassidy felt safe. It had made her and her brother the perfect potential victims, hiding away in a pizzeria that felt more like home than their own house. One, one time coaxed into trusting an adult, only to have that trust betrayed in the most brutal way.
"YES. BUT THAT LOVE IS WHAT GOT US KILLED." Wasn't it? Would they be here, any of them, bound to machines ( or ghostly figments of them ) had they not loved this place? Well, all save her companion. It seemed even a healthy fear of the place could not save an AFTON. The apparition of child, shadowed by something larger, familiar, looked to the Marionette. "WAS IT EVER REAL? OR DID HE BUILD THIS PLACE ONLY TO BE A TOMB?"
#☽—— ⸢ ask ⸥#f n a f /#˖ ☼ 𝒸𝒽. » ( golden freddy )#☆ —— verse ↳ g o l d e n o p p o r t u n i t y.#implied murder tw#death mention tw#child death mention tw#((listen i love writing cass SO much like omg. GF is so fun to write.))#((these two esp need to interact more because they're so. like. almost like foils to one another. it's v fun))#☽—— ⸢ queue ⸥
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starter for @vuldak-juneau.
where: the ports on juno's reach
when: during neptunalia, before she was emotionally bludgeoned in the event
note: we're meet cuteing
The docks on the port were still littered with the remnants of former festivities; the sailing competition had set off the day before, but it seemed now that everyone had ran to witness a show of strength for the evening. A few parties stationed on extravagant boats were seen farther off in the bay, but they were far enough on the coast that they could be barely heard where he sat calmly on the port.
A pile of rocks sat next to him, some found on the nearby shore and some dusted in glitters and paint; Lysaran's were certainly known for their attention to details, everything one could witness on the Isle was intentional. Footsteps resounded behind him, once sharp and quick easily fettered to something more agile and purposeful. Julian skipped a rock on the water, shades of turquoise and blue leapt from the glinting coast as he held a second rock up in the air before his head finally turned to view who'd stumbled to the port.
"Skip a rock?" The golden retriever smile is at its brightest, obviously, before Julian follows with a pestering chide of persuasion, "Let's see who's been granted Neptune's favor."
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