#PROSE.

[likeorpheus]

starter for @ghostbend

Francis was at some rock show in Los Angeles, just outside the viper room and smoking a spliff with a little extra tobacco in it. They were scouting. Midheavens was hitting the magazines again and there was some speculation that due to Kerry Lange’s unsightly femur injury at the last gig, that they were going to go on some hiatus. The band is short of a bassist, supposedly. Kerry Lange, had already healed from that injury. It took less than twenty-four hours for him to mend up like it never happened. 

Problem was, he stage dived and hundreds of people pooled around him saw up close that he fucked up his leg and so they couldn’t get away with it being a miracle.

Francis was already rumored to be a witch and while that rumor was actually a truth (that only the band members knew about, anyway) it was probably for the best that Kerry didn’t magically unbreak his leg and heal or it would cause too much commotion. Kerry already caused enough commotion. He was pissed he had to sit out for five shows. 

So Francis had to scout. They had to find a bassist that was willing to take on some magazine buzz and do an interview or two before the tour went back on. It was a saturday night and every venue in the area was hosting some music. If they were lucky, they could pluck someone right off the stage and call it a night. They nurse their spliff, letting the embers go molten at the end before exhaling. 

They turn their head in the direction of the doors, speaking to no one in particular. 

“  think the talent’s going to be worth it tonight ?” Smoke pillows their face as they peer in the direction of what appeared to be the stringmaster, his goddamn self. God, they loved L.A. There was no shortage of natural talent anywhere. 

[n0velaes]

@lightcreators, thomas required a starter from amelia paige.

" i may be a paige but i'm certainly not like my mother. " a mother? how can she call ava mother when she would do anything and everything to have her blood? her blood that was certainly not like hers. she too had passed the tests with flying colors. she was their favorite. she could still hear janson telling her how important she was. bile rose when she thought of the friends she had lost. rage too rose slowly inside of her. the people she had in front of her were no longer those she had fun with two years ago. they had all become pieces of a maciavellian puzzle that she herself had managed to create. " i might have been there and not in that stupid maze, but i watched everyone die. that was my punishement for not telling them what i knew. "

[qiallos]

' tell me , @vi0lnt. since when did your ego grow to be so insufferably large? ' leaned back in an excessively oversized piece of furniture , grin etched upon the features of the youngest directed toward the elder of the two. back from the grave and clearly putting this second chance at life to good use. ' i do worry for you , dear brother. if it grows any larger you may just lose your head. ' a snicker , relentlessly childish was he , but deservedly so. he didn't spend this long on the otherside to spend his time resurrected dwelling on whatever problems niklaus and elijah seemed to constantly be fretting over.

kol , on the other hand , was a refreshing change of pace. rebekah had been flighty , concerned by the most mundane offerings of the modern era. their elder siblings were constantly at each other's throats , more so on the side of elijah and klaus in way of finn , but kol and henrik had been seemingly tossed aside , the unwanted children left out of the grown up conversations. perhaps that was a good thing.

[punkzombie]

“  why are you really here?  ”

 ❛ I can't remember     ? ❜

He turns his pill-addled brain in the direction of the other but then, realizes with a little wince and a slight squint of his pale blue eyes that she was talking to someone else. Or at least he thinks she is. It was pushing 2AM and his drugs were just barely wearing off.

Kerry, however, tries to get the full of attention of the shorter. He was nursing a spliff and debating hopping to the next club that was open (if there were anymore open) or finding something to eat. He was starving. He had the hunger of a ravenous dog.

In his stupor, he smiles.

 ❛ are you talking to me ? I can't bloody tell...     ❜

[zweigz]

            ˚            ᵗʰᵉ   ʳᵘˡᵉˢ   ᵒᶠ   ᵗʰᵉ   ᵍᵃᵐᵉ   ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ       :     "        𝚒   𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗   𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛   𝚠𝚑𝚢   𝚠𝚎   𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍   𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐,     "

            [      ...      ]                 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒     𝐀𝐍     𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓     to     relationships       (       or,       whatever     the     fuck     this     is       ),       and     all     the     toxicity     of     tying     himself     to     URL,       that     he     hasn't     quite     mastered.       he     knows     that     makes     @natal7e     tick,       and     how     to     fan     the     fuel     of     her     fire,       but     not     quite     how     to     extinguish     the     flames.       there's     a     gap     between     them     that     will     always     go     unmentioned,       of     a     past     hiding     behind     her     that     he     can     never     quite     poke     and     prod     at.       far     too     heavy,       holding     a     mysticism     that     he's     not     even     close     to     being     mature     enough     to     handle.       they'll     always     be     just     that       :       almost     what     the     other     needs,       but     never     quite     enough.       "       i     don't     know,       nat       ...       you     tell     me.      it's     fucking     tiring     being     the     villain     of     your     life     all     the     time.       give     me     a     break,       yeah       ?       "       worst     part     of     all     of     this       :       it     was     probably     his     fault,       too.       but     when     both     of     them     have     wilingly     tied     blindfolds     around     each     other's     eyes,       and     agreed     that     they     will     only     talk     about     the     stuff     that     don't     matter       ...       reality's     sharp     hit     stings     eternal.       "       ...       you     think     i     like     fighting     with     you       ?       i'm     fucking     tired     too,       "

[shepurrs]

WELL, ISN'T SHE A SLEEPING BEAUTY? Harley's blonde hair frames her face like a halo. But we both know you're no angel, don't we? Drool slips from her open mouth, sullying the pillow beneath her head. Ah, that's more like the jester that Selina knows!

Selina is laying on the massive bed with the familiar black sheets inches away from Harley, head resting on her propped up hand, just watching the other woman breathe and snore and sleep. She resists the urge to pet her hair. Until she decides to do so, anyways. Perhaps it would be a sweet sight to behold. If it wasn't for the fact that Harley is fucking her husband, that is. (Ex-husband, Selina).

Yes, imagine her surprise when she found her friend in her husband's bed, the room smelling like sex and the bedsheets wet with his come. It took everything in her not to slash Harley's throat while she slept. The only reason she hasn't is because she wants to see the look of fear on Harley's face when she does it. Ah, finally, Sleeping Beauty is waking the fuck up!

She plasters a sickly sweet smile on her lips when Harley eventually stirs awake. ❛ I always did enjoy Bruce in blue, ❜ she purrs, referring to the dress shirt Harley wears. It would have hurt less had she just been naked, frankly. ❛ It goes so well with his eyes, don't you think? ❜

@crimeloyalty / starter call.

[c0lewalter]

@inspotlight required a starter.

a guy from colorado in new york ? this cannot be possible. or maybe it can ? new york was cold. he has to admit that he isn't really used to all this bulding and noises. when he was back at home, the only noises that he could heard was their horses and the chatter in the house he lived in. something he missed as well. home. somewhere when someone was missing and he cannot help himself but wonder why ? but he was there to support his twin brother. something he was proud of. how could you not be when another member of the walter family was successful in something they liked ? hoping not to come across someone who had a big impact on his life recently, he couldn't help but lean himself against the auditorium wall, lips puckering to the side as he applauded his brother. “ finally someone who knows what he’s doing. ”

[ofchaotics]

               it’s all rather unsettling - he’s never been one to mesh well with such drastic changes , but he tells himself that this is all for the better . stripped from a city he knew as if the map was etched on the back of his hand , he almost feels stripped of his confidence . watching the chicago skyline fade and facing the open road was almost cathartic . a bittersweet moment where he feels he may find himself , but in the process , lose himself . a celebration and a mourning , all in one . 

it’s different here , this tiny town in washington . it doesn’t feel right , until it does . why he’s picked somewhere across the country to settle in for college ? he’s not so sure . initially , he’s all nervous and soft spoken . it dissipates with time , and he finds himself a group of friends that lessens the blow of feeling so alone . isolation is never good for him , and he’s sure that’s presented itself to this new group of friends . their pushy demands to come out tonight , and how he dreads it because they’ve made a nasty habit of calling him out for the very apparent crush he now possesses . she’s never paid him any mind , and , if anything , she’s actively avoided him . they’ve crossed paths a few times before , and he’d offer a smile - to which , she’d scuffle off as far as she possibly could .

it’s a blow to the ego , but he makes an honest effort to brush it off . at least , that’s what he assures himself . as if he hadn’t mulled over what to wear and analyzed his awkward posture and inability to conjure up some witty one-liner . exasperation aside , he settles into this dreaded house party nursing his red solo cup full of vodka and red bull . he sees her there , and their eyes catch for a short moment . there’s something different this time , and he’s not sure on how to really describe it . a gentle prod to his ribs , his friends urging him on . all the words are caught in his throat , but he pushes pass all those superficial anxieties .

approaching her , he’ll offer a smile . there’s that tinge of nervousness that’s hidden within it , but he’ll try not to think of whether his nerves are visible at the surface . “ hey , i’ve got you in some of my classes , right ? i’m mateo   .   .   .  i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to introduce myself yet  .   .  .   “   /   @sewninto

[becomingvecna]

— David Cronenberg, Consumed

[thoughtcascades]

idk how to flirt but i can make things awkward if you're into that

[lucidloving]

@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks

[likeorpheus]

starter for @wickedslip

They kind of liked the more chilled Massachusetts weather. Back home, in Los Angeles where the heat could skyrocket and the air could choke you, this was a welcomed surprise. It reminded Francis of their former years across “the pond.” The cool breeze was riding up the length of their long and black curly hair. They had a pair of round and black sunglasses perched on their aquiline nose. 

Their guitar was strapped to their back in a nice leather case and their figure was adorned in draping clothing; long skirts, leather, and a velvet scarf tied loose around their neck. They were exuding androgyny. Closer inspection, one would catch sight of their heavily tattooed hands and fingers and the glinting rings and bangles they wore. But the primary accessory was hanging from their wrist; a small pale pink lunch bag with a bento box inside with all of Abra’s favorite snacks. 

While staying in town and working on a new record in the studio for the better part of a week, they figured they’d make a point of visiting Rosethorns Apothecary as the place was a bewitching spectacle but also Abra’s brand new place of employment. The bell chimes when they enter. They feel something rather familiar in the air. What it is, they aren’t too sure. 

   ❛ special delivery ? ❜

[n0velaes]

@silverforgcd, allison argent required a starter from lydia martin.

" please don't tell me we're here for yet another training session? do i need to remind you that the last time you tried to play with your darts, one of them almost went through me. " it was ironic. lydia knew that allison didn't mean to aim at her or that it wasn't intentional. she just had a bad feeling. these woods reminded her of a lot of things she wanted to forget. but the world needed them, again.

[usefulquotes7]

[punkzombie]

morb1dg1rl asked: “ how much insect essence do you think are in every square inch of chocolate? like just how many cockroach guts have i consumed with my hershey’s? ”

Kerry was busy guiding a rolled dollar bill up a line of coke when he gets asked this. He sniffs hard and squeezes bandaged fingers at the bridge of his nose. He blinks the burn away. Nice. It was clean shit. None of that parceled baby powder or laxative.

Only when it strikes him like a hammer does he cock his head up from the toilet tank and gives the other a once-over.

Somewhere between the party music (something trent reznor-like and throbbing) and the head rush does he reply and his words are enunciated through a drunken and scratchy cockney accent.

❛ depends ! how many cockroaches have you had that taste like chocolate ? ❜

[zweigz]

            ˚            ᵗʰᵉ   ʳᵘˡᵉˢ   ᵒᶠ   ᵗʰᵉ   ᵍᵃᵐᵉ   ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ       :      "       𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎   𝚖𝚎   𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕   𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕   𝚋𝚎   𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗   𝚒   𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎   𝚞𝚙,       "

        [    ...    ]        𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃   𝐎𝐅   someone   who   is   more   than   a   friend   but   less   than   a   lover,     but   something   far,     far   greater     :     never   falls   upon   deaf   ears.     tashi   is   his   twin   flame,     but   art   is   the   water   who   flows   and   subdues     ...     reminds   icarus   that   the   sun   will   burn   even   those   who   show   utmost   potential.     we've   all   seen   what   happened   to   her,     afterall.     "     ...     i   was   just   goin'   for   a   smoke.     don't   be   dramatic,     "     the   pack   sitting   in   his   palm   now   falls   heavy,     anchoring   him   to   stay   on   his   dip   in   the   bed.     patrick   rises   as   the   sun   does,     and   @tennismatch   remains   shrouded   in   its   shadows       —     maybe   even   all   these   years,     things   aren't   too   different,     after   all.     they're   still   just   seventeen.     "     y'miss   me   already,     donaldson     ?     still   haven't   gotten   your   fill   of   me   makin'   up   for   lost   time     ?     "     the   weight   that   hangs   between   each   syllable   begs   for   the   other   to   stay   just   like   this.     begging,     pleading   despite   the   uncertainty     ..     proverbial   hand   reaching   out   to   remind   him   not   to   fly   too   fast   and   leave   him   behind.     "     y'want   to   take   your   princess   nap   or   come   with   me     ?     "