#* starter

[memepocalypse]

Broken Promises

"You promised me."

"You're meant to be better than this!"

"You said you wouldn't do this again."

"How can I trust you now?"

"You've betrayed me."

"How could I let you hurt me again?"

"Why make a promise that you can't keep?"

"Every time, every time you say this and I believe you!"

"You're an asshole. You always were."

"I never trusted you, not really."

"I had to break my promise."

"I didn't mean to lie to you. Circumstances changed."

"I was trying to keep you safe."

"Oh, and you've never broken a promise before?"

"Why am I expected to be perfect?"

"Of course I lied. Why did you think I wouldn't?"

"You really think you matter, huh?"

"I never meant to keep a promise to you."

"Ha. Hahaha. You're just an idiot."

"What if I promise it won't happen again?"

[galahadsboy]

Muse: Rokk

Plot: Rokk doesn't understand how laundry works

Open to: Men, other heroes, friends, civilians, roomate

"I think this jacket may be the only thing that I have that's clean and I don't know where replace the clothes with clean ones" he said lying on his bed in only a grey hoodie unzipped to show off his nude body.

[sagavalkyrie]

*perched on the roof*

*has a raven on her arm*

[alexanderforhire]

*Lacy's phone rings*

[a-basket-of-muses]

Byron stepped into the bookshop and paused to take a deep breath. He loved books. It was why he decided to become a teacher. But, that reminded him that he was here on a mission. He was looking for another book to have the kids work on.

Whistling quietly Byron walked over to one of the counters to see a young woman with hair the color of copper. Though in the sharp sunlight it had more of a reddish hue. "Excuse me Ma'am. Could you point me to the young adult section?"

@saphire-sweater

[pride-and-wrathfulness]

*in Aaron's bed*

@aaron-trainer

[charmed-redemption]

UDW: Faction Wars

[console-pokeballs-rupees]

😭

credit: mikripkm on X

[denarius-quart-of-wheat]

*hears a knock*

*has been a few minutes since she's felt the horrible pain, was just relaxing before it began again*

*limps to the door, carefully opening it and afraid it's someone who will hurt her*

[hauntedgodofthedead]

*walking the grounds*

*decided to try and see if he can still do things on Earth since he's figuring his powers out*

[julesdrawz]

Empoleon

[memepocalypse]

Send, "Ow!" for sender to accidentally walk into receiver.

Send, "Where are you going?!" for receiver to walk into sender.

[tattoobruised]

*steps into the church*

*looking for Wren*

[voiceinthemidstofthefourbeasts]

*a loud, terrified scream*

*it's quickly cut off and then a thud*

*white and gray feathers drift down the hall, mixes with ash*

@war-has-no-mistress

[archfallen-ramiel-adramelech]

*sitting on Hell's throne*

*there should have been a big shift in Hell when he did this*

[markhxffman]

[ Closed Starter for @looking-for-roleplay ]

Ever since Detective Mark Hoffman had made eye contact with FBI Agent Peter Strahm, he’d plagued his thoughts like a phantom. There was no room in his mind to be distracted by such simple things and yet he often found himself staring at his ceiling at night, thinking about the witty Agent who always seemed to be pissed off about something. Leading a double life had been so easy for the last couple of years once he’d found his rhythm. The whiskey and bourbon did a good job of drowning out the pain and regret. Maybe it was true that if you lied enough, you’d start to believe it.

Washing the blood off of his gloves for what seemed like the thousandth time, he felt his flip phone buzz. It was probably the office. Maybe a lead. It didn’t help that Strahm was like a goddamned bloodhound trying to sniff out the killer. Once he’d dried his hands off, he looked at his phone and noticed that it was Chief Matthews. He’d requested that Mark come in the next day on his day off to work on the case. Mark sighed and answered ‘Sounds good’, shoving it back into his pocket so he could get back to what he’d been doing.

When he finally walked into the office the next morning, dark circles were evident under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping, nor would he start now. Glancing up to see Peter Strahm with that hip cocked out as he leaned over something, he felt that nagging feeling that said ‘don’t let him get to you’.

“Morning,” he grumbled over his coffee, sliding past him to grab the files for the case. “You’re here bright and early.”

His tone indicated that it was a jab.