#lmk if you want anything changed!

[transgender-tonystark]

@angyc0rtoons recommended rocket raccoon stuffs so, here we go!

feel free to use these so long as you credit me!

credits: x,x,

[swandivers]

with @kiopop!

jihan shouldn't be at this party. all things considered, he knows that—and in his defense, he'd done a pretty good job at almost not coming. it's just that he'd had a dozen invitations and reminders extended his way, temptations from old friends who knew his worst habits, and each one had been harder to ignore than the last. besides, no matter what bullshit excuse he came up with, the fact of the matter is that he doesn't have shit else to do and when jihan's bored, he free-falls.

again, jihan shouldn't be at this party. but he is, and there's 125 milligrams of mdma keeping him here. when he comes down, these people won't be his friends. but for now, they are. for now, there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

thirty-five minutes ago, he'd texted the address to kiyong. there'd been discussions of the party prior to that, most of which were probably misleading. no matter what state he's in, jihan knows that kiyong's not really the party type... but he thinks that he could be, if he's eased into it. anyway, he ought to be here by now. so jihan starts the search for him, drink in hand. evidently, his timing's perfect—he finds kiyong by the door, some look on his face that's hard for jihan to classify. he doesn't think too much about it. he's happier than he's ever been to see kiyong—hell, happier than he's ever been to see anyone, probably. when he smiles, it's all teeth.

"kiyong," he addresses, half-shouting over the music and noise. "i'm so glad that you're here." and it's true, as out of character as the proclamation is for him. if it weren't for one hand holding a cup filled with vodka & orange juice and the other hand feeling in his pocket for the little plastic bag with a second tablet of mdma (reserved for kiyong, on the off-chance that he's in the party spirit), he might even try to pull him in for a hug despite having never hugged him before. as it stands, he settles for the toothy grin. "do you want a drink?" he asks, but doesn't wait for an answer before deciding, "let's get you one!"

[theerastour]

requested by anonymous

reputation eras tour icons (like/reblog if you save 💜)

[swcctcrbittcr]

closed: @darlinghearts connections: elio & billie, elio comes to see billie for a fix

billie had sent an sos text, which usually meant she was either in trouble or needed a hit. not that elio was an actual dealer, he was just working the rounds for a new case with his partner, and if he was honest it was nice to disappear into the work and away from his rather dry and boring home life.

"checking on a lead." elio nods to his partner, who knew the actual reason for his departure as he heads over to billie's place, quick to knock on the door and lean against the frame. "so what's it you need this time?" he smirks, cause whatever it was, she knew the price of it.

[ssecretgardens]

with @graffitiriot!

truth be told, saetbyeol does not care much about being a good labelmate, let alone a good senior. for years, she’s been largely uninvolved with sodapop. the members did not intrigue her enough to risk developing any friendships within the group, lest their territorial fanbase find out and tear her to pieces; but nowadays, she finds herself tiptoeing towards them regardless. loneliness, maybe, either the realization she’s been signed to ydh for six years and hardly has the connections to show for it, or an epiphany that the boys are real people. whatever it is, they don’t bother her like they used to—so when the elevator opens its doors and minjun is inside, she doesn’t flinch like she might’ve months ago. she simply steps in with a polite bow of her head and presses the button for floor four.

the doors close. once it’s just the two of them with the background music of a tacky elevator song, she starts regretting her choice—maybe she should’ve taken the stairs, after all. there’s no problem with minjun, really, it’s just that she feels obligated to make small talk, and she doesn’t know him near well enough to do a good job at it.

“what are you up to?” she asks, biting the bullet. she’s hardly interested in the answer, it just feels like something a normal person would ask another normal person, until suddenly it doesn’t and she rephrases the question. “or, um, where are you headed?”

[hawkc]

Hawke knew he was about to get an earful. Truly, he had it coming, Varric and he had made the bet while they were hanging out at Herald's Rest, how long until Merrill killed him for leaving her behind after Kirkwall. Hawke, ever the optimist, gave himself an hour but Varric, being the more realistic of the two, gave him five minutes. They both knew Merrill, but it was unknown how she'd react given the circumstances... On the positive side, Hawke hadn't died helping the Inquisitor, so that was good.

"Merrill! Hello, you look well!" Hawke was stalling and trying to defuse the situation; that was clear. He didn't want to face her wrath and possibly owe Varric 5 sovereigns, he'd never live it down if he lost their bet.

@cuerrvox

[multiesmuses]

⠀ * @burnedtoacrisp asked — " no , wait ... where are you going ? "

⠀ exasperated, she turns, jar of fingers clutched tightly to her chest, " i'm going home, sherlock. you know, my shift ended two hours ago and i stayed here for you, but all you've done is call me john, " jar is placed on marble finished countertop, perhaps too harshly as it shatters upon impact. a frustrated groan escapes her, hands moving to run down the length of her visage. " i'm sorry i'm not john, sherlock: truly, i am ... but i cannot help you with these cases the same way he does. "

[slashaer]

admittedly, sam hadn't exactly been discreet in his efforts to track down the vampire. and despite having no ill intent when looking for louis, sam could understand that the implications alone would put any one edge, or at least allow them to be on guard. the hunter glances down at the machete that now lays on the floor between them, catching the reflection of a roaring fireplace in its blade before sight moves back up to meet the other's. 'you're not gonna believe me, but i, uh . . . i didn't intend t'use it,' sam explains after a moment, ushering toward the machete with a hand before it lands back at his side. 'it was mostly for insurance purposes — in case you tried something, first. i only came here t'talk,' @operahouses.

[ormir]

&&: @vxlashbringer Where: Tiber Bay Notes: classic meet cute where i almost push you into the blood ocean

After a full day baking under the sun, the shipyard reeked of salt and the pungent rot of decaying algae. The summer bloom gathered in a red line on the horizon, and stained coppery rings around the bows of merchant ships that cut through the bay. Ormir strode the dock as the sun dipped beyond the isles. In the North, such a lushness of life would be interpreted as a good omen. Warmer seas meant stronger summers, and a likely break in the frost above the ironwood forests. Here, the bloom only meant that time was passing, and each moment with it cementing Iskaldrik and its ruler further into history. 

The refugees’ plight had become one of many the Queen juggled, and though the threat of Aetheron invasion loomed along the northern border, there were closer threats to snub that took precedence. The King’s Hand blamed this negligence for his country’s slip toward obscurity. As representative, he felt the weight of their voice thinning in his throat within the small council. If there was no movement soon, Iskaldrik’s survivors would be just another faction osmosed into Eterna’s ecosystem of displaced and lost souls. In a few short generations, their descendants would have nothing left to connect them to their homeland.

Something solid knocked him from the spiraling thought. A stray shoulder had clipped his own. Leather scuffed as Ormir stopped and turned to address the owner. Crowds typically bent for him like a brook around a stone, but this one was obstinate. Was he becoming invisible, too? “I beg your pardon.” Ormir purred, though it sounded more akin to a demand than an apology. A smile waxed, heavily manufactured, over his face, as silver eyes flicked the stranger up and down. Assessing. Inquiring. Evening his temper, despite their proximity to the edge of the dock, and the allure of the reddish brine below. “I was miles away.” He reasoned.

[missdcalls]

"listen - our professor made it clear that the partners he selected were final. there won't be any switching or bartering to get someone new. so why don't we just...accept that, and work together on getting the best grade we can get?" carter's eyes are pleading with the other, but with how they've been - he isn't sure he's going to be able to win them over. // @persephonyed (based loosely on x)

[rising-dawn]

ੈ♡˳ for @peonyumi​ <3

usually, dawn loved valentine’s day. a whole day to celebrate love. but this year, his heart felt lost and confused. he hadn’t spoken to the one person he wanted to spend this day with more than anything in weeks, and he feared he was losing her. he thought sharing that kiss was the step that would lead them from a friendship and pining for more to being able to have a real relationship. that’s what he had hoped anyway. but now he didn’t even know if she felt the same way about him as he did about her.

all night he had been carefully scanning the crowd for the familiar blush of yumi’s cheeks and the sound of her laugh he had easily committed to memory. he had wanted to give her space, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by giving her unwanted attention, but in all honesty, he didn’t even know what she wanted. he had hoped tonight he would be harder to avoid and he could at least muster up the courage to ask her if he truly needed to move on or not. not that it would be that easy. it seemed that every little thing made him think of her. he had seen a sign on the side of the road for a mummy exhibit in a nearby museum and couldn’t help but think about the excited rants she would go on about archaeological breakthroughs where he may not have understood most of the words, but he definitely understood the way her eyes lit up so brightly. he had been so lost in thought until finally he heard it, that beautiful laugh that he had become so accustomed to bringing out of her himself.

[gcldcnhour]

@seolinah plot: here muse: richie porter

"right, so." richie clears his throat, tongue running across his teeth as he leaned toward her. "i'll be upfront with you, i was supposed to woo ya, get ya alone and then..." his head tilts as if to indicate what he meant. "but your husband, he's the real piece of work, wouldn't shut the fuck up about how ugly and awful you were." but with a swift motion of his hands he's clearing that statement. "he was projecting." the smile is back, enticing her, "and now i'm here to offer you a double-cross on him."

[woednesdayaddams]

@nancewheelr said : " you can't just sneak up on me ! "

nancy’s words ring familiar when they reach her ear drums. sneaking up became a reoccuring theme, as she often finds herself doing that to peers and strangers alike. it’s only natural, to hunt the prey by observing it carefully before attacking. and wednesday tend to be a menace to society, which led her to show off just how unexpected she could be, how much terror she can inflict, how dark it is for her to hide in one’s shadow before she struck them down. alas, that wasn’t the case with nancy wheeler — no ulterior, dark motives behind. she just approached her, admittedly in a quiet manner so that her presence would not be sensed until she wanted it to be revealed. perhaps, wheeler was right, but wednesday wouldn’t admit it.

“i approached you.” a statement to clarify her actions, although she did tip toe her way to reach nancy. “it’s not my responsibility that you didn’t see me coming.” a shrug is given whilst dark, obsidian hues stare right at nancy — or through her, as her vision tended to defocus every now and then. wednesday didn’t approach mike’s sister without a proper intention. a question perhaps would be a better term to wednesday’s hidden reasons. “anyway,” she continued, “my intention was to ask you something.” the contents dark and twisted, of a world that didn’t develop, or one that is yet to come. wednesday could vividly remember the contents of her prophetic vision, the town of hawkins painted red, a pool of blood standing where water used to run, the ashes of its historical buildings taken by the wind, forgotten, as if it wasn’t even there.

[swcctcrbittcr]

closed: @wastelcnds connection: based off here pippa just can't help herself !

she was straddled over his lap, skirt pushed up to the tops of her thighs. her head was buried into his shoulder, arms draped lazily around his neck as he all but ignored her. but pippa was needy, she was whiney and hated when the attention was diverted anywhere but her. so she shifts, his rough jeans pressing in just the right place against her clit and she pauses. it felt too good to ignore, and if he wasn't giving her what she needed well she would take it. she shifts again, hips rolling forward to hump his leg, face still buried in his shoulder as she slowly continues the motions, wondering how long it will take him to notice, if she could make herself cum before he did notice.

[ssecretgardens]

with @lovesholics!

saetbyeol lingers by the studio door longer than she should, hesitant to let herself in. she’s not really sure why. she’s spent the past couple of weeks looking forward to this, to getting to work with hyein again—but now, the anticipatory excitement turns into anxiety. there’s no reason to be anxious. she knows this. hyein is one of the nicest producers that she’s worked with so far, it’s just that last time they worked together she had been completely focused on the work. there was no small talk, no attempt to get to know each other; and that’s usually what saetbyeol wants out of a producer, but it’s not what she wants out of hyein.

in the end, it doesn’t matter. work’s work. hyein isn’t obligated to be a friend to saetbyeol, and saetbyeol doesn’t have the right to be upset if the session begins and ends without a single unnecessary word. she turns the doorknob slowly, takes a deep breath, and lets herself in.

“hi,” she greets with a slight bow of her head. she’s not used to this feeling, the urge to impress. she doesn’t like how it feels, but she listens to it nonetheless. she eases into the room, takes a seat and drops her bag at her shoes.

“sorry i’m a little bit late. traffic was crazy and my manager’s a nervous driver,” she explains sheepishly, lying through her teeth. on one hand, she’d actually driven herself due to the fact that she didn’t have any other schedules for the day—on the other hand, her lateness is not because of traffic; it’s because of how slow she’d walked through the building, even using the stairs to get here instead of the elevator. but these are things that she chooses to keep to herself.

“anyway!” an abrupt exclamation accompanied by her hands coming together. “what’s the plan for today?”

[therelignedstars]

@lowerqualityrp asked: ❝  i’m not threatening you.  ❞ (Mayhaps from Drowsy or Bruce? I'm pretty open, tho!)

"Good, cause I don't want to hurt you. You're a sweet guy, and I have a deep respect for your brother. So I wouldn't harm you anyway." She says, facing away from Bruce as she worked on his car. "What did you do to mess your car up this bad? When Charles said it got damaged, I didn't think it would be this bad." She sighs, still assessing the engine for damage.