#( verse. tbd )

[vanyashay]

━ OPEN STARTER

➥ He had been fiddling with the pen and paper all morning, tearing off pieces, tucking them into his pocket because littering and wasting paper were BAD manners. He'd make a use for it. Couldn't risk anyone with a half a decent brain finding it and stealing his work. And perhaps he'd find the answer to his mind's runaway thoughts somewhere in the scribbles and idle formulas scratched on paper later. Vanya wasn't very good at thinking when he was distracted. The person he had come to meet likely wouldn't have any comprehension of what he was thinking about, still, he couldn't risk the slight chance that they would understand and ask him about it. Much too complicated to explain or drum up some lies about. He sees a body come closer and he flips over the lined paper pad, looking sheepish while blue eyes are raised to meet the other. "I don't know. Don't ask."

[hightownquccn]

@theprice-cffreedcm asked: "You don’t need to tell me everything. I just want to know how I can help.” (From Here)

It would be so easy to just snap at him; to tell him he could help by keeping his nose out of her business. That she didn't need his help. But she is just so tired. And it was Steve. There was no ulterior motive to his asking. It wasn't an interrogation. It was just Steve.

It was hard to figure out where to begin. She was tempted to ask him if he'd ever been shot by someone he cared about but then she thought of Bucky during his time as the Winter Soldier and decided that was a dumb question. Shots had definitely been fired on more than a few occasions.

Honestly she didn't know if she was ready to tell him. There was so much they still hadn't shared with one another. And he understood that. He'd told her she didn't have to share. He just wanted her to let him care. Let him in. For once. It was something she was bad at. All her life she'd learned to keep things to herself; to bottle everything up. It was how she kept from getting hurt. Normally. The few times she'd slipped up had cost her.

"Just-" She didn't know what to say. Or where to begin. Giving up she just reached out, pulling his arm closer and around her. " Just sit here with me. "

[oldfuckeditor]

"You know the key to running a convincing bluff? every once in a while, you've got to be holding all the cards." -Nick

NATIONAL TREASURE MEME @bloodybusiness

➥ "And why do I need YOUR advice for that, exactly?" There's a heavy pause before he continues, giving Nick a chance to answer, but when he doesn’t, Charlie takes the opportunity to be bitchier. “You know the basis of journalism isn’t bluffing, despite all the pick me, grab attention bullshit out there, that’s meant to garner views more than devise the news. Even then, you have fucks who make up stories, invent pieces of the investigative process so they have a chance at a Pulitzer.”

He has never once held all the cards, even in his lofty office, head of the Times, hand picked to be there by God his freaking self - Not once had Charlie ever felt like he was ahead of the game. Once his boss had died, then printed newspaper went out of style, and now, he has to battle bullshit news and entertainment pieces. No one writes what’s happening in the world anymore, it’s all about instant gratification now.

He would hold a better standard than that for his journalists. They may not be prize worthy, but he feels the sand and dirt being crushed into diamonds under his feet. “Don’t give me advice about my work, I don’t go into your shady underground buildings and tell you how to run a convincing scam on stupid people.”

[twcheaded-a]

OPEN STARTER

"Khajiit is most used to... big cats... Senche, or Senche-raht" 'most used to' was a half-truth; he hadn't ridden on the backs of any of his cousins since he'd left Anequina or the caravaning lifestyle behind — few of their cousins were brought in the caravan he traveled to Skyrim with. "They fit those his size much easier than one's steed might." Golden-green eyes move between his companion and the horses, his brows furrowed in concern, tuffs of hair-- done up in gold beads -- with it. "Ri'shardul will walk, or perhaps, better, find a cart for us both."

[makesmiistakes]

A closed verse starter for @alpheas

YES+ | | PREGNANT + pregnant+

All signs that yes, she was indeed pregnant again.

FUCK.

She'd taken two after getting off work the night before. Then three more early this morning...

All positive.

She was screwed. Well. Been there done that and apparently there was a lovely little additional prize. It wasn't that she didn't want to have kids. She did eventually. She already had one baby girl and that was handful enough at the moment and that was with Laura AND Derek's help. Derek. Shit.

Derek and Nina had been...close since she'd found out she was pregnant with Regan. Peter had run off and left her with only her friends family? pack for support. The two had grown close over the last year and may or may not have helped each other scratch some itches at times. Being pregnant again had not been one of them. And they'd only JUST decided to stop that altogether. How was she going to tell him?

Glancing at the clock she muttered another few curses before quickly throwing on a change of clothes ( she'd gone to the pharmacy in her joggers ) . Next she woke up Regan and began to get her ready. They were supposed to be at Laura and Derek's in less than an hour for breakfast this morning. Thankfully it was a good morning and it didn't take too long to pack up Regan and her bag.

She spent the whole car ride over worrying. In her rush, Nina didn't realize till she was knocking on the door that they were actually a good ten minutes early. Well at least she'd managed to pull herself out of bed this morning at all with how she was feeling.

[protectthevulnerable]

[ HIPS ]: sender pulls receiver in closer by the hips. Kalinda - Lena

@storyofwhoiam

          Lena sucked in a breath, eyes widening as they were tugged into Kalinda. They really wanted to let this happen, but they knew where this road stopped and they were not a fan of that side of town. "Kalinda... we can't do this. I can't do this." Part of her was worried that it would end just like last time, but she didn't care that much about that. The problem was... Lena had feelings that Kalinda didn't (or if she did, she'd probably never admit to that) and Lena really wasn't in the headspace to be able to navigate such a complicated relationship. They would just hurt each other and Lena would lash out and hurt Kalinda worse than she had hurt them.

          "You and I both know this is a recipe for disaster." That was just their personalities, but Lena wouldn't let the real reason out. It made it all too vulnerable.

[oldfuckeditor]

➥ Completely and purposefully butchering the French, "So, what the fuck was 'mon beau' then? Here." While Nick had spent his time pitching the deal, he had poured his drink, - holding it out for the other to take, muscle memory - which didn't even sound like a deal, it sounded like it was already done. Dumbass CEO making plans for the paper without his consent or go ahead, which he assumed was why the guy was paid the big bucks. And why he was stuck in the office after hours while the boss went home at a little before four. "I would have preferred a phone call after so many years instead of sharing my good scotch with you. At least that way I could have hung up on you, ya know."

It felt funny to Charlie that he accused the French of such things, when that's exactly what it felt like he was doing to him, once again. Paying off the higher ups, someone above him and screwing over his hard-hitting pieces, the ones that could have easily ripped apart that pretty veneer Nick held. "Unlike some of us in this room-" He waved a hand in a circle, "I don't give a shit what people think about me." An eyebrow raises in challenge, like he's daring the guy who thinks he's suave to correct him.

The age of digitalization, how Charles had fought so hard against the changing times, stuck in his ways. He still missed the effort, the sweat, the smell of fresh newspapers off the print - He was old and everything he once held so close to his chest seemed to be disappearing on him. But, as he aged, he was allowing himself the freedom to let go of these things, to find his way through the emptiness of cold monitors and paper sales tanking as the offices filled with beeping, blinking, typing pieces of shit. He was almost tempted to let this go as well, call it a night and pretend his life's work wasn't on the line with a 'deal' like this. If only he could.

Lips press together like he's trying to hold back, hold his tongue, hands shoved in pockets while eyes roam Nick's face, but there's something about this guy coming to see him personally that's rubbing him the wrong way. "A lovely lunch, huh. Did you fuck him, too, to get the funds passed through, or did he accept the cash upfront without putting out? I actually have enough funds to do what I like and being frank, I don't have to take shit deals or money from any punk ass with a fat wallet who walks in."

He wasn't expecting a warm greeting from the man, especially not how things had been left between them. Nick intentionally getting his piece shut down for his own sake, leaving the story hidden away from the public while he served his sentence. Or, at least, part of it. But that sentencing was why Nick was there to begin with. The paranoia of having funds in one location lest anyone start digging into his history again to put him up for a retrial. That was why he still shifted it around, moving from offshore account to offshore account, bringing it local when needed, and putting chunks of it into investments.

"Would you have preferred I told her something else?" A raised brow at the other man; certainly wouldn't be too good for his image. But there was a chuckle at being called French. A true insult even if that was where his heritage lay. Even if he had ditched the accent so long ago, New Orleans still held a place in his heart. "And I'm not French, I'm Cajun. The French are the ones that screw you over while acting superior to you." But, he wasn't there to debate where he came from, he was there for business in a sense. Maybe it was just an added bonus that Charlie was one of the top men around the company.

"A business I invested in decided to fall through. So I had a lovely lunch with your CEO and agreed to move the money to the New York Times. Print is dead, yes, but people are also less likely to read and believe the news even when it's online. The age of misinformation. So you'll get more funds to do- well, whatever it is you do. In exchange, I get a small percentage to regain the funds. That and I would prefer to continue to keep my name out of papers unless approved first." No doubt the last bit would be the hard pill to swallow but it was said with a casual mention.

[aregebidan]

head in hands in a t-shirt that says i ♡ narratives that criticize narrative i ♡ stories that resent being told

[vanyashay]

CLOSED STARTER @isabellaxrossi

➥ "Isa!" It's accented, playful, and not any cause for concern, even if the call was sudden. She just happened to be on the other side of the basement, probably engrossed in her own work. Vanya had been working on this new formula all morning, shifting around the index cards on his corkboard that held the different elements to his struggle. Now, he was finally asking for a second opinion, feeling confident that his brain's ramblings finally made sense enough for someone else, especially one who worked with him, would be able to tear through. Perhaps he's even missing a variable or two, maybe he's placed one too many. It's a puzzle to him, one that he's intent on solving, or else all his promises don't mean shit.

This would surely change the game in terms of uppers, a drug unlike any other, and only half the addictive qualities some of his favorites held. Maybe he should have been focusing on the products already set out for the two lab monkeys to make, but Vanya was never one to do the same thing over and over for long. "Lunch is on me if you can help me, please?" He's about ready to turn around and pout.

[hightownquccn]

@guiltburdened asked:   ‘ comforting ‘  - bucky, fatws send me    ‘ comforting ‘    for my muse’s reaction to yours gently wiping their tears away after they’ve been caught crying 

For a while all she felt were the tears trailing down her cheeks, soaking her eyelashes that were now practically stuck together as she sat curled up on the couch. She didn't hear the door or the footsteps as he approached her. The spy didn't even sense him she was so wrapped up in her thoughts. But she did feel him when he reached out to her. Warm and cool fingers moved below her eyes, gently brushing at the liquid that continued to course down. Both were a comfort.

Fuck. He was home.

She was tempted to lean into the touch but it also shocked Shar back from where she had let her mind wander. Ducking her head slightly she tried to push him away, not wanting him to see her like this. " No, " she murmured, trying to pull away.

[vanyashay]

➥ He had been more than one or two drinks in, perhaps it was her bad luck, but Vanya liked to think he was more interesting when he wasn't sober. A tiny cock of his head to the side she happened to be sitting on when she sat down next to him, he wasn't going to make someone unfamiliar uncomfortable with his need to be chatty. She had opened the door herself though, and he walked right on through, no thoughts, just friendly advice.

"Amaretto Sour, it's good, sweeter than I usually like, but I have this lovely bartender make it a double and I don't care how sweet it is." There was a smile following his answer, holding out his hand once that was done and over with. "Nice to meet you, Vanya. Oh, no... I'm Vanya. Sorry, what's your name?" Always ready to make a new friend, this one was, he had been alone and lonely for far too long. God, he might have been the most pathetic guy in the bar, but he was going to be nice about it, at the very least and not make it her problem.

❧ early night ❧ faux folie ❧ @vanyashay

Simply a night out on her day off, no art for once but instead plenty of time spend enjoying herself. That was the plan either way. Mere minutes before she'd arrived, scanned the crowd and made her way to the bar without so much as a second glance. Adelaide had no specific plans in mind but if she was going to dance and enjoy herself then she'd need to have a drink first, at the very least.

Once she reached the bar her eyes began to scan the area, thoughts about which drink to order running wild only to glance to the side, spotting a drink that looked at the very least more interesting than the usual choice. "Sorry, what is that one if you don't mind me asking?" Adelaide was never one to hold back, always far too curious for her own good. Perhaps it would work in her favor this time.

[oldfuckeditor]

CLOSED STARTER for @berkeleys

➥ Charlie didn’t like strangers in his office, he really didn’t like PEOPLE in general in his office, but sometimes there needed to be a space to have one on ones with his writers. A space to yell at them without others to overhear. He had stepped out of his office, just for a moment, to look over the shoulders of his computer monkeys, doing the daily check ins and progress reports, before heading back. In the dim light of his office, though it usually bled through the slats of the window shades facing out into the writing pit(as he called it), now there was a shadow of a man. Cheryl had taken off for coffee, so there was no asking who the guy was.

The door was wide open, so the simple fact that whatever was happening, whoever had decided to visit him wasn’t a private matter, remained his sole source of comfort in walking through the door. Footsteps halt right as he turns in, however, arms crossing over his chest like a defense mechanism. “Jesus.. Couldn’t wait until Cheryl was back? Need some fanfare to introduce you next time.” He removes one arm to close the door behind him, because whatever Julian has come to talk to him about, it’s gotta be interesting enough, since an email or phone call wouldn’t do. Though, consider it curiosity that a politician so well known as he would even be interested in Charlie at all, even if he could take a few guesses why he was here.

[twcheaded-a]

OPEN STARTER FOR MUTUALS

"Wrap a piece of pancetta around each fillet..." Kieran stood in front of a range, cooks gathered around him amid preparations for the night ahead. This was the last of many dishes on the menu to be served tonight, and save for this moment of silence and attentiveness, the kitchen had been busy, bursting with the sounds of knives on cutting boards and the clanging of pots and pans.

He folds the pancetta around one of the fillets in a way that he doesn't need a toothpick. "We're going to sear--" Kieran glances up from the fillet when the door opens. If it had been one of the cooks, he would've continued with the preparation of the dish. But this is different; his brown eyes linger on the guest a moment before speaking. "I'll be back." He doesn't specify when, setting the fillet back down on the cutting board for one of the cooks to deal with.

Kieran takes a step back before glancing at the chefs gathered around him, peeling off his gloves. He doesn't know how long this will take. "After you sear both sides, set it on top of the roasted vegetable rounds, and put it in the oven till the fish is perfect. Plate with the creamy fennel sauce.. you can get creative, just make sure we can replicate it." His fingers dance across each other as he counts down --index to pinky finger--. He's met with a chorus of 'heard' and 'yes, chef.'

He pulls a clean towel off the rack after taking off his apron and washing his hands, slinging it over his shoulder. Drying his hands, Kieran walks over to his guest. "You're here early." 'Very early.' His lips twitch into a toothy smirk. It's too soon to tell if the look borders on annoyance or something more playful. "Coming around tonight?" He moves past them, then, while still facing them, back toward the dining room.

[makesmiistakes]

@alpheas asked: “  of course i came.  you needed me.  ” / for nina. exes with feelings prompts | ACCEPTING

Leaning down over the cot she planted a kiss on the now just warm baby's forehead. Thank whatever may be that the fever had broken finally. And it wouldn't have been possible ( or at least for her to get through this without freaking out completely ) without Derek showing up when she'd called earlier in the day.

Walking over to him in the doorway she stopped close by, leaning against the other part of the doorframe across from him. Her eyes looked over to him before tracking back to watch Regan sleeping. She crossed her arms over her chest. " Thank you for coming today. And staying, " she said, " I didn't mean to take up your whole day. "

" Of course I came. You needed me. "

Her gaze moved from the crib back to the other adult in the room. His gaze was also on Regan. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lip. She missed him. Reaching across the way she rested a hand on his arm before leaning up slightly and planting a kiss on his cheek. " Well, thank you. I couldn't have done this without you. " She gave his arm another small squeeze before letting go. " Can I make you a drink? "

[protectthevulnerable]

believe me, we can fix this thing. Justino - Mel

@storyofwhoiam

          "Not with fucking duct tape!" he argued in a whispered yell. "Kaz is gonna kill us!"

[sankta-alina-s]

@starlsssankt

Alina considered the coins in her pocket as she looked upon the bolts of fabric. Marina seemed to be in need of new clothing faster than she could keep up with. These would last through the summer, yet another batch would be needed for the winter.

Each coin earned from taking in washing was saved for her daughter's upkeep. Alina's pregnancy with Marina had been fully unexpected- realized after she'd crossed the Fold weeks after the Winter Fete- yet she couldn't imagine her life without her daughter. The little girl hadn't shown any signs of being Grisha just yet, which allowed for the mother and daughter to remain in their West Ravkan home for a while longer. Alina knew it was only a matter of time however, what with the girl's lineage to speak of.

She parted with some of her coins in favor of a measure of blue calico and a brown cotton that she hoped would withstand the wear and tear of a four year old. Said four year old was not too interested with her mother's selections and was instead taken with the spools of ribbon on display at the next stall.

Alina paused her conversation with the elderly woman behind the counter at the gentle tugging of her daughter on her hand.

"Do you want a ribbon, malyshka?" she asked, supposing that another coin could be spared for the trifle. Ever since laying eyes on her daughter, red-faced and wriggling in her arms after being born, Alina strove to do whatever possible for her. If a ribbon for her hair would bring a smile to the little girl's face, then Alina would do so gladly.

She spoke with the woman about trivial town gossip for a few moments while Marina chose her ribbon. Alina eventually turned to the display, intending to hurry Marina along, when she noticed the lack of a four year old by the ribbons. Icy panic flooded her upon not spotting her daughter.

"Marina?!" she called, wildly scanning the area. She dropped the yards of fabric on the stall counter as her daughter's name once more formed on her lips.

Relief flooded her upon spotting Marina in the midst of an animated conversation a few stalls over, unknowing of her mother's panic. The momentary relief was quickly eclipsed by utter horror as Alina recognized who it was that was talking to her daughter.

Her breath came short and fast while her body temperature dropped. She'd been so careful to avoid notice or attention these past few years. This town knew her as Irina, while the last had called her Darya. Alina had even limited her use of the Small Science, just summoning enough light every few weeks to keep herself healthy.

How had this happened?

"Marina!" she called sharply as she darted toward her daughter. She grabbed the girl and hefted her into her arms, not carrying that her hands were no longer free if needed to summon, as having her daughter close was all that she could focus on.

For the first time in four years, Alina found herself meeting the eyes of the Darkling.