#lemme know if i should change anything

[ijemmaokafor]

Starter for: @salemcampbell Location: Salem’s apartment

Jemma had a particular sort of relationship with each person on the council. Even before becoming advisor, even before she’d started apprenticing with them, she was always up in their business. She couldn’t help it. She had to get her hands in everything.

Salem was the one member that could just about match her optimism. (Ginny could get pretty close, but she always held back that last little bit.) So she’d run ideas by him on occasion. Things that didn’t need official council approval, but could benefit from some workshopping.

That’s what brought her to his apartment on this particular evening. Ember’s idea for a support group of folks with substance abuse issues and Ares being shackled with an ankle monitor we’re both swirling together into an idea for something…she hoped Salem could help her figure out that last little bit. They hadn’t done one of these evenings since losing Ginny and she felt out of practice. But she knocked on his door anyway, half-hoping he wouldn’t give her the “sorry for your loss” puppy eyes that everyone seemed to be dishing out.

[dcviated]

@snowbelled from here

Solidarity in unsolid footing. They were both nervous, uncertain, and so completely faulted in their own ways. Even by aiming to join hands together in the most basic of manners was threatening to cut each other. Slow. Steady. As much as his heart was racing Citrine needed to remember that pace was his strongest weapon. Bear the frustration. Bear the emotions. Bear her pain and then you can show her your comfort.

It was the youthful naivete that wanted it to be over now. For them to go back even just a little. Two traveling operators on the way to Kjerag for an offering. Seeing the sights. Enjoying the foreign culture. When he sucked air into his lungs, he wanted it to be out of content, not a shallow effort to stabilize his frustration.

"...I know when to give up." There's a quirk of a smile on the Draco's lips as he meets her gaze again. It's sardonic in nature. A hint of humor in spite of all the bitter struggle that came before. "And that's when I can't fight anymore. Or when you convince me to. You haven't done that yet. Sorry." Except not really.

If there was anything here in the aftermath it was a sense of victory in the woman's surrender. She hadn't outright said it but the important thing, as Citrine saw it, was that she had acknowledged him. As a person. And someone who earnestly wanted good for her and them. Not simply to dig for the sake of knowing.

"You're too important for that." These words he mutters under his breath as the two separate entirely, with her gaze shifting away and his hands dropping from her arms. It's a good time to remember that he's still recovering. And a clench of his hand calls on his arts, a crackle of energy yielding some measure of respite as it curls around him.

"Huh? Is it... really so weird? That I want you to- er, right, of course. We have other things to be focusing on." He hadn't even thought about a response to his confession of feelings. It was a selfless declaration on his part, but that too was awful selfish. Fortunately there were other matters at hand. Like the sudden realization of their surroundings. A rural town on the outskirts of Kjerag. Their ride had brought them as close as it could to their destination. They'd need alternate transportation for the rest of the journey, let alone to get up the mountains that loomed in the distance.

A trial to conquer another day. It would be night soon.

"This all started with me doing some reading..." A bemused chuckle. A moment of reflection how such small things resulted in such big changes between the two of them. Pramanix was anything but a simple woman, and required a touch he may not yet have figured out. For now, he needed to carry the luggage. "We should get settled before it gets too dark."

[roguesenses]

a peek into the future with @mightiboy & @naturalbrutality !

It was raining again.

The top of his shoe disappeared into the depth of a puddle, muddy water clinging to his every step. In the distance, among the fog, two figures stood. They did not move as he approached, as if in waiting.

More enemies? Izuku's danger sense was silent, yet his eyes remained wary until he was close enough to make out the men's features.

He should have been too exhausted to express bewilderment, but the sight that greeted him was truly perplexing.

Familiar, yet simultaneously not.

Before him was Katsuki, only taller, in a different outfit, and had a scar on his face. Beside the blond, there was another man, and when their gazes met it was emerald on emerald. This felt like a trap, but even as Izuku instructed himself to take a step backward out of an abundance of caution, his instincts already knew the truth. One for All had always been connected, and just now he felt it stir.

Izuku had many questions swimming in his head, each fighting to be prioritized. But what ended up making its way out of his mouth first was this: "What happened to Kacchan's face?"

[shepscapades]

Surely this will have no negative consequences whatsoever!

[gcldenhcurs]

open to: @champagns, f muses, age range from 25-32

muse: rhys hawthorne, military special ops, now a big baddie

plot: a couple that got extremely rich by doing illegal stuff and now traveling over the entire world 1st class and sleeping in expensive hotels under false id’s, smoking weed and having sex in every corner of the room and police trying to catch them so they die their hair a lot and don’t call each other by their real names in public. and basically just a lot of bad ass stuff.

Rhys walked away from the scene, unscathed and no one would noticed the missing cash. He had taught how to be stealthy and never leave a trace of his presence. Realizing that the military didn't give a shit about him and what might happen after he was discharged, he turned it around on them. He blended into the crowd, just a faceless nobody as he walked towards his partner, his girl. The person he really did all of this for. "Never doubt me, darling," he smirked, cigarette hanging from his lips.

[shouga-nai]

@bombmate said:

looks like we're stuck in here for a while.- PROMPTS FOR ACTION, CHAOS, AND DRAMA //to Genji and hi :)

PROMPTS FOR ACTION, CHAOS, AND DRAMA || Accepting!

"It would seem so..." Genji spoke, looking around and assessing the situation. The floor giving out from under their feet certainly wasn't something he saw coming. Except the floor didn't exactly collapse or crumble. He could've sworn it was more like a mechanism that activated right when they're in perfect position. Could they have been lured into a trap?

Whatever the case may be, the reality was that they're both stuck in what appeared to be an underground basement, with their initial exit blocked. Barely any light and space to work around with at that.

At one point, his gaze did land on Junkrat's mines. They could opt for the easy way out and try blasting the exit open, but would also be risking blowing themselves up in this close quarters...

"I don't suppose you have something a little more... subtle?"

[springbreezc]

♡ — closed starter for @lyswrite | based note: made with beta

dressing in front of them doesn't cause jeb to even blink an eye, so accustomed to sharing the same space. living together with his ex came with its issues, but it didn't suddenly make him shy. the sun peeking through the curtains had been what woke him up, having collapsed on the couch the night before after his shift. "you have plans tonight, right?" he posed the question to the other as if he didn't actually remember that they had a hot date planned. "do you need me to stay out of the apartment for awhile or if things go well, is the plan to go back to their place?"

[bloodiedfields]

Easton's heart raced as he walked along the concrete sidewalk, his eyes peering behind him to make sure no one was following him. The race at the burnout had caught the attention of the authorities. He did his best to outdrive them, but ditched the car in a safe spot before walking to avoid any more of the spotlight. It would only be a few hours until the heat was gone, but he could waste the time easily.

Easton needed to blend in with the denizens of the night and took a seat at one of the bodegas to eat and calm his nerves. Hands still shook despite his desperate need for composure, "a sprite," he looked over at the stranger, "I'm good, thanks though." He looked at the bowl of noodles placed in front of him and his appetite hadn't appeared with it.

[   𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡    𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗    𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥,     0/5    ]     𝙴𝚇𝚃.    𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼    𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃    𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽    𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿    -    𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃.    CHARACTERS    FEATURED,     RUSTY    WEST    &   UTP.

the    wet    concrete    glistens    with    reflections    of    the    screens    plastered    on    every    high    rise    within    five    miles.    the    city    has    changed    over    the    years    but    one    thing    remained    evergreen:    the    bodegas    lining    the    industrial    side    of    town.    hard-working    folk    lounged    around    here    for    the    quick    service    and    cheap    eats.    rusty's    been    a    local    for    forty    years    now    and    developed    an    iron    gut    for    the    cuisine    ;    pickings    were    slim    with    it    being    after    midnight    and    only    a    few    bucks    in    your    pocket.    "need    a    sprite    ?    you    look    a    little    green."

[quirkle2]

ms paint with mouse time

[dolorousvale]

(RE?)connecting; @jeremiahofphilo

Wednesday night. Cool, moderately windy, with the moon mostly blocked by the clouds.

Half an hour earlier than the agreed upon time, Dolasach arrived at the arcade—a flashy building with three floors of entertainment that ranged from the classic crane game, to a newly installed interactive holographic setup ‘that brought VR into IRL.’ Rolling up the sleeves of the beige and navy cardigan that her pouty lover insisted she wear lent her, she made her way deeper inside with a goal in mind.

Recalling that Jeremiah mentioned that he couldn’t figure out some of the machines, she made it a point to take some time to scour the place for anything that either looked like something Jeremiah would know about, or seemed like the right level of complexity for it to still be fun to figure out. Or maybe they could have fun with something they could both figure out together?

It crossed her mind that this was probably way more busywork than Jeremiah could’ve ever expected from her, but after how… Awkward? Some of their last meeting went, she just wanted to try and make sure things go relatively well. Or at least, they wouldn’t have that much dead air if it did get awkward again.

She pulled out her phone and quickly sent Jeremiah a text once she was satisfied with her findings, the time hitting close to their rendezvous.

->Mr. Philo-dendron: Let me know when you’re here, will meet you at the entrance. Take your time btw! No rush :>

[imvgincs]

.  𓇬ㅤ♡   ˖⠀❛⠀⠀starter for @lcvlettrs.

                             haeju   wasn't   entirely   certain   he'd   ever   feel   at   ease   navigating   the   sleek   corridors   of   the   agency.   he'd   once   thought   the   hero   academy   was   impressive,   but   the   institution   that   had   welcomed   him   post-graduation   had   swiftly   dispelled   that   notion.   nearly   a   decade   on,   he   still   grappled   with   a   sense   of   displacement,   though   he'd   sooner   swallow   glass   than   admit   it   aloud.   instead,   he   clung   to   his   narrative   of   triumph,   relishing   his   journey   from   rags   to   riches,   all   thanks   to   his   resilience   in   the   face   of   what   many   deemed   insurmountable.   the   same   resilience   that   allowed   him   to   stand   here   now.   only   recently   returning   from   his   latest   assignment,   a   broad   grin   stretched   across   his   face   as   he   spotted   a   familiar   figure   before   him.    ❛⠀hey,   gramps!⠀❜    he   called   out   in   an   exaggerated   manner,   speeding   over   with   a   determination   not   to   let   his   target   escape   him.    ❛⠀ooh,   is   that   a   grey   hair   i   see?⠀❜      he   teased,   his   fingers   plucking   playfully   at   a   strand   before   his   gaze   settled   on   the   face   of   the   hero   he'd   known   since   his   earliest   days   at   the   agency.     ❛⠀long   time   no   see.⠀❜   

[nathaniel-donovan]

Gazing down at Freya he listens to her quiet tones, feeling softly surprised by the contents inside of the box being Rosie's idea - an expression that translates on his features, a genuine smile born from his previous confusion, one that felt rare to him these days, finding that actually? He didn't have anything to smile about. "She has?" He lightly chuckled, being told that Rosie had prepared a whole speech was something he found cute and it's almost like he's obeying Freya when she tells him to call her over, giving her a small nod and moving himself to poke his head around the kitchen door, "Rosie," he says to get her attention, "You wanna come show me what you brought over?" He asked only to see her smile brighten just that little bit extra, giving Chip one last fuss before she got up and followed him back into the kitchen.

"Here let me move this over.." he mentions as she got up onto one of the stools where the box was in front of, picking up whatever junk he had cluttered on the counter and putting it over on another surface. Choosing to sit on the chair next to Rosie, he can't help but get lost in the nerves he did feel, unsure how to tackle those and that's when he looks over towards Freya, unconsciously looking for some form of greenlight.

"We made you my favourite soup," Rosie begins as she takes her milkshake off of the top of the pile before opening the box, "Mom made her chilli for you, which is always nice." While Rosie sorts through the box Nate can't help but smile as he watched her; feeling grateful. "Oh, my favourite bath soaps, we put some washcloths in there too..." a sentence that has Nate chuckle softly, finding the innocence entirely adorable. Now seeing her pull out her wrinkled piece of paper, almost as if she's checking it over he can tell she was nervous - just like Freya had said. "Wubbie.. I don't need this now so I think you could have it. Always makes me feel safe. Oh, chocolates and there's lots of pictures I made for you." Rosie looked over towards her mom, silently wondering if she had missed anything.

Nate now peers into the box before saying, "Thank you. You know I feel better already." He chuckles lightly. "Are those M&M's?" He feigns a light surprise. "They're the best ones." For Nate, technically, anything sweet was best. "Think I might need this, actually," he pulls out her comforter, trying to in some ways ease his own nerves and also Rosie's. "I see something in there for Chip too, think you'll be his new favourite." He laughs softly. "Thank you." He says again and then looks over towards Freya, "Thank you too." He knows that Freya would have helped. "Do you both want to stay?" He's more asking Freya now, already having noted the food that they had brought over, he wasn't just asking to be polite, it's because he wanted them to.

"You don't need-" Freya stopped herself the moment the weight of the large box left her and they all entered his abode. There was a moment the woman wanted to insist that she had it. Freya could've carried them. She stopped however knowing Nate had been the sort of man to be a gentleman. He had been a person with a reputation and that was the same reputation that caused Freya to keep him from knowing his true importance in their lives and Freya had to learn it was a broad assumption. Even with every reason to tell them to go away, he was dealing with the death of a sibling after all, Nate was present. She smiled briefly before it was gone and one cleared their throat. "Let me talk to you in the kitchen. Help you unpack the food." the firefighter gestures even if there was no point with the fact he was already in the kitchen. It was more for Rosie's benefit who gave a half wave, enamored with the one eyed feline who was glued to her, purring like the hum of a small engine soaking up the attention.

Now personally stepping over into the kitchen, ignoring the mess for the moment Freya moved towards him. He towered above her yes, the height difference had always been a thing. Whispering softly so little ears didn't pick her up Freya explained. "Our daughter made this care package for you. Before you say anything, she spent her time in school drawing you pictures. She has a list stuffed in her back pocket I am not supposed to tell you about of her favorite things that she packed in this large box for you because they are what comfort her and Rosie's idea was since-" Freya paused finding it hard for the moment to say his sister's name knowing it was hard "-since you're experiencing something heavy that to get to know her and to make you feel better. Rosie prepared a whole speech, she was nervous in the car, went over her list twice to be sure we had everything. Call her over and ask her to tell you what she's put in the box."

[abyssmarked]

❛ 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 ? 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 ? ❜

the vampire spawn had asked to see her, really see her, in her truest form. she supposed it was just his curiosity, though, nepharia doesn’t think she looks too much different like this. and so here she stands, after the glimmer of a magical, red smoke cloud clears, secluded with him in the wooded area near their camp where they have been sneaking off together the past few nights, she shows herself to him fully. she stands at 5’10”, now an inch taller than the elf when she used to stand a couple of inches beneath him. her wings are wide and fleshy, pale and veiny, and one can almost see the moonlight shining through the thin skin. they have a few rips and tears here and there, but they are still fully functional wings. they widely stretch outward, having been tucked away for so long, it does feel good to give them some room. her body doesn’t change much, aside from the wings, but her claws have grown a bit longer, a bit sharper, same as her teeth. the second most noticeable change is her eyes. the whites turn a deep black, the pupils shine and glow a bright white in the darkness of the night.

nepharia is already studying astarion’s face, seeking a genuine reaction before he’s even able to speak. out of everyone here, the succubus is most comfortable revealing this secret to the vampire first, as though he might be able to empathize with her discretion being a “monster” himself. she can’t say she necessarily trusts the elf, but from what she’s heard from him so far, they seem to have similar traumas, though they haven’t quite gotten down to the marrow of their stories just yet. they’ve already had sex, but only once, since the next morning was equally rough for both of them. the sex was a partially a power move, but nepharia would be lying if she said she wasn’t the tiniest bit attracted to the spawn before her, which certainly made her a bit nervous. she suppresses that for now, because she feels as though astarion is using her for the same reasons as her. someone to trust in a time of great peril, someone to help keep her alive. call it intuition, but something about astarion’s entire front seems disingenuous, she just can’t place why. nepharia gives a small, slow spin, her gray, freckled flesh vaguely covered with the minimal fabric of red lingerie, then confidently offers him a fanged smirk, ❛ 𝐝𝐨 𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ? ❜ she asks as though she might be offended if his answer is no.

* closed starter | @vampiheir

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [PART 2] [Part 3]

The unexpected return of a face Xisuma never thought he'd see again.

[sunsage]

@geidonteispostergirl liked for a starter!

"No, it's like this-" He stretches his arm out and balances the shot glass on the back of his hand. Concentrating for barely a second, Wukong swiftly smacks the inside of his elbow and catches the catapulted glass with his mouth. And then he just tilts his head back, letting the burning liquid slide down his throat.

Once that's done, Wukong casually sets the shot glass back on the bar. "It's a little tough to catch the glass without spilling anything but the rest is easy. Try it!"

[rcubens]

🕑 DAY 0 — 7:09, SATURDAY ☏ @nurturercelia

The first time Reuben met Celia’s mother was 1991. A then fifteen year old Reuben was steadfast in not cutting his hair, going for a California surfer bro, with the added benefit of hiding his gaze behind curly bangs. He didn’t want to go, he could a found a dozen better ways to spend a Saturday but, Celia had asked and he didn’t want to be in the habit of saying no to Celia. Especially since she had been such a good listener in the past. Reuben was still a year away from getting his own license so he sat cross armed in the passenger seat, mop of curls smushed against the glass. There would be a lesson in this somewhere, he was sure of it.

Nearly fourteen years to the day, Reuben jingled SUV keys in his hand in the garage. “I’d drive but I don’t think you’d want me to,” it was in part because he was a bad driver, Angus could attest, but also— focusing on the road might take her mind off things if she so wished.

It was a nice place, at least on the outside. Picturesque trees lining the driveway, an unassuming collection of buildings, a nip in the air but Reuben was coming to learn that’s just how upstate New York is. It felt awkward, like he was intruding. He wanted to ask if it was okay for him to just stay in the car but Celia was already striding towards the front door. He hovered behind Celia but still stood out as he’d already hit his growth spurt. The air smelt like antiseptic and dust, and he felt like the only man in a fifty mile radius.

“I think today is a nice day, I’m sure she’ll be grateful to say goodbye to Richard,” he says over the sound of the electronic locks on the car unlocking. He still didn’t like visiting but with Celia he would try, and try even harder to make the whole thing seem like a Sunday drive.