#ooc rhythm is rambling

[ofluckandmagic]

NEW YEAR SHORT STARTER/MEME CALL

Drafts aren’t fully speaking to me right now due to the stress of the last 3 weeks,so I’m putting some on hold, I hope y’all can understand. (long story, but I’m finally recovering from all of it)

With that said 💛 this post and comment if you want a short (preferably plotted, but am open to winging it) starter, or memes sent into your inbox! Don’t be shy if we haven’t written much yet, this is your chance and mine!

Multi’s please specify!

Appreciate ya’ll a lot and here’s to a new year!

-🍀

[ofluckandmagic]

Gasp >:0 no but it’s such a mood tho!!

Telling your rp partners angsty headcanons, plots, etc and enjoying their reactions a lil too much 

[tvrningout-a]

while i’m on break, i’m thinking about chiyo’s birthday tradition of going out for ice cream and arcade games with her cousin naoki :’ ))

[ofluckandmagic]

When they’d first discovered Myshka, it was Eydis’ first priority to adopt the small feline. To a degree it made since, given their track record of loving all animals big and small. There was something about Myshka though that reminded Eydis of themself when they were younger. Exploring the City with a tiny cat swaddled like a newborn on a sling might’ve been impractical, but was entirely worth it...

… Until everything had gone to shit.

To be honest, Eydis expected that this adventure would go to shit eventually. Nothing good lasts forever. Between fighting the Netherbrain, and the begrudging wildshape into a dragon to ensure their companions made it out safely, they hadn’t had time to actually go back to Camp. When they had, Myshka was gone. Naturally, the Druid was panicking. Who wouldn’t?

The scent of fire filled their nostrils, burning at their eyes as Eydis searched the abandoned streets. Forge Dragons weren’t usually bothered by smoke, but this was different. They scanned for any side of life. It would be easier to fly, but with their wing damaged they knew it wasn’t feasible. Passing through the run down shopping district, the realization that there was no sign of life made them increasingly worried.

When heard a familiar yowling in the distance, the dragon raised their head, slitted brown pupils zeroing in on an alley up ahead. Their talons thudded heavily on the old cobblestones as they bolted towards the sound. Their clublike tail twitched anxiously as they skidded to a halt. Eydis poked their head into the alleyway.

Myshka?

@ofluckandmagic

Sweet silly Mermer (Eydis) wants a starter

Myshka was ever so happy when Mermer plucked him off the streets. Life was so much less boring now. Mermer carried him in a little sling, and he got to see all of the streets, and inside some shops that hadnt let him in before (Mermer threatened them with nature magic hehe that made them okay with Myshka). It was so interesting and full of things!! But then Mermer was very serious and said Myshka had to stay in camp, be safe, that Mermer loved Myshka very very much...and Myshka was worried. So many awful things happened after that...Myshka had seen such horrible things... everything was all on fire and smoking....but the big brain thing wasn't moving anymore...all the tentacle things that had chased him were dead now...

but his friends! Where were his friends, where was Mermer?!

Myshka ran down a side alley and yowled loudly for Mermer.

Myshka is here! Mermer, where are you?

[ofluckandmagic]

Happy New Year to those who are in more fortunate time zones!

May you have good luck this year 🍀

[mikavlcs]

Dinosaur Talks

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: You like to talk about dinosaurs, and Wednesday likes to listen.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday (does this even need to be said)

Word count: 0.8k

Notes: this is literally just for 🦕 anon. i hope you enjoy it, dino<3

Masterlist

“The Mesozoic Era, also known as the Age of Dinosaurs, is comprised of three periods—the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods. The first real dinosaurs actually emerged in the middle of the Triassic period—aw, come on, Thing. A draw four? Really, man?”

Calm, somehow smug-sounding taps sounded from atop her bed followed by low mutterings about betrayal, but Wednesday paid it little mind.

Her fingers flew across the keys of her typewriter with a rhythm and purpose she had become well acquainted with. She was in what many referred to as the zone—when words surged from her like the rapids of a raging river.

It was a state of being achieved by having complete, unrelenting attention to the task at hand. A familiar feeling when it came to her writing.

You were in a similar state. Though instead of writing out the gory details of a detective’s crime scene like she was, you were entrenched in your ramblings about prehistoric creatures.

An interesting sight, but not an unfamiliar one to Wednesday or really anyone that knew you.

It was no secret that for whatever reason, you were very fond of dinosaurs.

They were a special interest of sorts, something you were exceedingly passionate about, and though she herself cared little about reptiles gone long extinct, she indulged you for reasons not entirely yet known to her.

“Fascinating,” she responded evenly, allowing her mind to file the information away with all of the other technically useless dinosaur-related factoids you’d voluntarily offered up over the months she had known you.

You shot her a smile that likely would’ve blinded her if she were looking directly at it. “I know right? How about you, Thing? You think it’s fascinating?”

Wednesday could picture him giving you an excited thumbs up in response, and the airy laugh you let out all but confirmed it.

“Okay, it’s your turn, bud. Yeah, I’ll keep going,” you took a breath, sat up a little straighter. “The Triassic period ended with an extinction event. A bunch of sudden, widespread volcanic eruptions wiped out all Triassic archosaurs apart from dinosaurs, pterosaurs, and crocodiles. This ushered in the…”

You trailed off slowly, animated frame going oddly still in her peripheral. 

The abruptness of it made Wednesday spare you the smallest of glances, and she found you looking back at her, brows drawn, and bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“Actually, uh…nevermind, I’ll save it for later. After you’re done writing.” You flashed a small smile then turned back to your game with Thing.

Quiet embraced the room. The only sounds that could be heard were the shuffling of cards and the occasional taps from Thing. And Wednesday should have been happy about the newfound peace, should have been able to put even more focus on her work. But she couldn’t.

Because suddenly, it was as if there was a dam halting the natural flow of her artistic river, causing the joints in her fingers to stiffen and her mind to go frustratingly blank.

Usually, it was the opposite. Enid’s incessant noise was a notorious distraction during her writing time and though she’d grown somewhat attached to her roommate, there were times when she wished she had a muzzle on hand so she could have just a moment of tranquility.

And yet now that she had the silence she normally longed for, she didn’t want it.

Her mind instead craved the timbre and intonation of your voice when you spoke about something with immense fervor. The space felt empty without it.

With a silent sigh, she set her hands on her lap and turned to you, momentarily giving you her full attention. “And what of the Jurassic period?”

Your head whipped to the side. “Huh?”

“That is the period that follows the Triassic period, correct?” she prompted.

You blinked a few times, clearly unsure, but an expectant raise of her brows was enough for you to take the extended olive branch.

“Well, yes,” you started up again, tone excited but informative, “the Jurassic period is indeed what followed the Triassic period, and thanks to Jurassic Park, it’s the most identifiable of the three. It was during this period that the first gigantic sauropod and theropod dinosaurs appeared—"

You looked away to continue your card game with Thing, words never faltering in the process, but Wednesday’s eyes stayed on you for just a bit longer.

Your ardor for these stupid dead animals was not cute—she refused to ever allow that word into her personal vocabulary—but it was something akin to that. 

Endearing, perhaps. Possibly charming. Or maybe something even more…

No, that wasn’t a rabbit hole she was interested in diving into just yet, she decided.

Returning her gaze forward, she flexed her fingers experimentally, exhaling when she found them relaxed and ready, just as they were before.

Satisfied, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter and continued the paragraph she was working on, once again letting the currents of her creativity flow from her freely to the symphonically sweet sound of your voice.

[ofluckandmagic]

Sable quirked her lips into a slight smile, thinking for a moment before nodding slowly. The VB800’s silver gaze latched onto Connor with a hint of amusement. More time to think about what he wanted? She could completely understand as to why. The android had been through quite a lot recently.

“I completely understand. You need time to process, and figure yourself out. There’s no harm in self exploration…”

His expression softened ever so slightly as he spoke. While Sable was far from the first android to break free from her programming, she knew all too well the psychological strain it took to do so. Figuring out one’s place after turning to deviancy was no easy task.

@ofluckandmagic || Sable

❛  I need more time to think about what I want.  ❜

[imbadatwrighting]

ARTISTS ARE ATTRACTIVE

SUMMARY: Tim Drake was never know for being the most attractive brother, but you always found a way to make him think he was…even if you did it in a unusual way with your weird staring problem.

WARNINGS: Artists are attractive troupe, hinted that reader can be mean to others, hinted autistic reader, Tim Drake in love, gn!reader, masc! Reader, reader being called “boyfriend”, blunt!reader, crappy writing bc I wrote this half asleep, reader wearing a tie, ooc Tim, short

PAIRINGS: Tim Drake/Reader

Tim Drake had a lot of things: brothers, computers, coffee. But he only had one boyfriend. A mean yet sweet boyfriend who apparently was having a major staring problem.

It wasn’t hard for Tim to realize you were staring him down from across the couch while he was trying to finish long past due work.

Your eyes seemed to be roaming all over his body as if you were trying to memorize his figure’s pose.

Tim let out an almost inaudible sigh, turning his body to face you. "Can I help you?"

"No,” you breathed out, not removing your gaze from your boyfriend.

"Ok then," Tim whispered, moving his body to fully face his Mac book once again. Sure, he was used to you staring at him almost all day while he talked to his brother or was working, but you never made it this obvious. He was used to you looking away when you suspected that he would turn to look at you. He always found it a cute little quirk of yours, but it just felt different this time. In a good way of course, but still.

Tim took in a deep breath, looking at you from the corner of his eye. He could see the way your finger tapped along the table next to you in a rhythm only known to you and how your hair was slowly falling into your eyes. It didn’t falter your staring problem however.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

You hummed, “looking at you.”

Tim let out another sigh, closing his Mac knowing that he won’t be able to concentrate on it for much longer. He would get back to it later when your asleep or fixating on something else. “I get that.”

“Then why’d you ask?” you questioned.

Your boyfriend made a sound unfamiliar to you. “I meant why are you staring at me?”

“Because I want to remember you.” A look of confusion washed over Tim’s face.

“I have a feeling you won’t be forgetting me soon, unless you know something I don’t.”

“No.”

“No?” he repeated. Usually by now you’d be getting to your point, leaving nothing in the dark. It was like your T.M.I button was disabled. Not like Tim cared, he loved to hear you ramble on about something while he’s doing work, it brings him a peace of mind.

“You look good.”

There it was.

Blush started to form on Tim’s checks along with a small grin. “Do I?” Tim smiled. He noticed the look of pure adoration on your face, it always made him feel good about himself.

“Yes, you look very attractive. I'm trying to enshrine this into my mind to draw later,” you stated like it was nothing. To you isn’t wasn’t, you were just being honest, but to Tim it made him feel butterflies all over again.

He wasn’t used to it. His family never said things like that to him, barely praising anything he did. You didn’t either, not in a bad way, you showed your love in a different way.

“What got you thinking on that?” He assumed it had something to do with his brothers that you talked to earlier this day.

“Your brothers,” you told. Of course it was his brothers. “Damian said that you were a bad muse but I don’t think so. You’re plenty attractive, making you a perfect muse.”

Tim felt like his face was turning into a tomato because of you. Trying his best to ignore it, he looked down at his dirty shoes. They were covered in coffee stains at least a couple weeks old.

“Do you think that the artists are attractive too? Because I think the artist right next to me is very attractive.”

Tim noticed that your fingers stopped tapping on his stained coffee table and you turned yourself to be facing Tim.

His face moved in your direction, blush even more distinguishable.

Your eyes looked almost doe-like when looking at your boyfriend and your lips were pursed in a straight line.

“What? You have anything to say?” Tim asked. His nerves were getting to him. He knew perfectly well he had no reason to feel this but his brain was fighting against it.

“I wouldn’t say all artists are attractive, like Van Gogh! He was labeled as ugly, ungracious, impolite—” you rambled getting cut off by your boyfriend pulling you into a quiet kiss, his warm lips on yours.

Slowly pulling apart, Tim stared at your glistening eyes. “I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about you.”

“Oh.” Not wanting to mess with whether you get another kiss, you ignored the confused thoughts in your head, leaning back into Tim.

He smiled at the expression on your face. Anyone else would be dead before they saw it, but he wasn’t anyone else. He was the one that could break down your walls like you did to him.

Tim inched away, his hand still gripping onto your tie. It seemed like every time you leaned in, he leaned further away.

“Let me kiss you,” you whined. A bigger grin appeared on your lover’s face.

“I have work to do,” he hummed, fully pulling away from you. You grabbed onto his arm dragging yourself closer to him.

“I’ll make you coffee. The good kind too,” you grinned. Tim faked thinking it through, pushing you gently off the couch.

“Fine, but be quick.”

You laughed, dragging Tim up and to the kitchen while he let out complaints about how he shouldn’t be the one getting up to go to the kitchen.

You pushed him into the counter, lips chasing after his. “You know, the deal was meant for you to make me coffee then we kiss,” he said in between breaks for air.

“That’s stupid. I have stuff to do.”

“Oh yeah that drawing is super important,” he laughed, his tone lost in your ears.

“Exactly,” you huffed, continuing to pepper kisses along Tim’s face and neck. His hands trailed down you arms, enjoying the break your giving him from work.

His artist always knew how to make him feel good.

[heyhelloitsmilo]

couch cuddles

=========

moon system x gn!reader

word count: 666 (nice)

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✨ might be a little ooc, getting back in the rhythm! owed a steven fic so heres one :) my IOU is paid

⚠️ warnings: milo standard fluff, show accurate depiction of DID, petnames used (lovingly)

💛 pairings: steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader, jake lockley × reader, moon system × reader

💫 summary: pillow talk/mornin cuddles

🎶 music i listened to: A Man Without Love, Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Kiss Her You Fool

=========

You stirred to the feeling of warm breath on your collarbones, neck cricked from sleeping on the couch. You groaned softly, opening your eyes against the morning sunlight, greeted with a sleeping Steven, nestled up on your chest. Being light sleepers, it didn't take long before Steven woke up, your hand in his curls, breathing quietly in the cozy apartment. It seemed the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch after watching some Ancient Egyptian documentary. Marc had been co-con for a while, at least while the gods he knew were involved, but he'd been long gone. Jake? Nowhere to be found. Or just quiet.

"Mmn..." Steven hummed, resting his face in the crook of your neck, hugging your side. You giggled softly, feeling his stubble against your skin, wrapping your arms around his neck. "G'mornin' love..." He mumbled into your skin, eyelids fluttered shut, hand around your waist. You smiled, nestling your face in Steven's hair, kissing the crown of his head, gentle and sweet. "Good morning, Steven."

The two of you stayed like that, legs tangled, hands gently caressing one another, the sound of birds outside coming through the window. You sighed softly. Slow weekend mornings like these were always nice. Khonshu leaving the guys alone, at least for a little while, experiencing peace and quiet.

"We should get up and eat soon." You mumbled, face still in Steven's hair. He groaned softly, shaking his head. "I know... but a lit'le longer couldn't hurt, right?" You nodded with a small chuckle, gently rubbing your hands up and down Steven's back. "I didn't say right now. But yes, we can stay cuddled up for a bit longer." You felt Steven melt under your hands, more than he had already. It made you smile, knowing how comfortable you made Steven and the guys. It made you very aware of how much they trusted you, how much they valued you. And it made you feel nice. They held a spot in your heart, just as much as they held spots in their hearts for you.

You tilted your head to the side, fixing the soft cushion beneath your head, watching your partner as he relaxed. You appreciated every detail, the way his chest expanded with every breath, his pretty eyelashes, his nose, the way his curls framed his face. You loved it all, cherished it all. You pressed a gentle kiss to Steven's forehead, smiling as he playfully scrunched his face in response.

"You're so cute..."

"I'm not cute, you are."

"Nah, you're way cuter."

"Can we agree that you both are cute and eat breakfast?" Marc spoke up, sounding a bit done with your little banter. It made you crack up, your shoulders shaking as you stifled your laughter.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, grumpy." You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Good morning to you too, Marc. And Jake if you're listening."

"He always is." Steven said after a moment, coming back to full consciousness. "...We really should eat breakfast. I can hear your stomach gurgling."

"Maybe." He wasn't wrong on that front. You were hungry. And you'd be damned if you didn't wanna get up and eat. But... the couch cushions and the cuddles were so cozy... You wanted to get up and stay put simultaneously. Conflicting feelings. "What're we feeling for breakfast, anyways? I think we still have those vegan sausages in the freezer, pretty sure we have pancake mix, cereal, fruits, oatmeal... Lots of options."

Steven watched as you rambled, supposedly finding the whole thing adorable, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "Hmm, sausage and pancakes sounds nice... Cut up some strawberries if we have 'em..." His voice was still gravelly from sleep, thinking about food with you was nice. He gently pressed kisses to your jawline and chin, loving and soft with every touch.

"Mmnh...." You smiled, tilting your head back into the armrest, allowing Steven more access to your neck.

"Five more minutes?"

"Of course, Steven."

=========

masterlist/intro

=========

i love fluffs (short n sweet <3)

hope you enjoyed!

- milo 💛

[fluentmoviequoter]

Knowing You're Close

Pairing: Michael Ormewood x fem!detective!reader

Summary: You work best when you know Ormewood is close, and when he realizes how much his presence affects you, he wants to learn more.

Warnings: fluff, case involves child abduction, Ormewood may be OOC (it's a custom blend of his s1+2 character + how I picture him in the books)

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

A/N: I love him so much but when I write him I get so scared that he's wildly OOC. Plus, all of the gifs of him are from the scene where he (spoiler free, promise) does not look his best, so that's disappointing.

Since you arrived at the station this morning, Ormewood has been tapping his pencil against his desk. You haven’t said anything about it because it’s a reminder to focus on your case. You’re not sure why it’s encouraging you to focus other than the subtle reminder that people have weird little quirks that are only annoying until they’re gone. There may be several families in Atlanta that would give anything to hear their loved ones click a pen or complain about how the dishes were dried one more time if you don't make a break in this case soon.

“Hey, how far is the Coke Museum from the aquarium?” he asks without stopping the rhythmic tap, tap, tap-tap against his desk.

“A mile,” you answer. “About a twenty-minute walk or twelve minutes on Line 26 bus.”

“Thanks.”

You hum and flip the page in your case file. You’re missing something.

“Corruption,” you murmur.

“I told you, the vending machine was broken and taking one protein bar doesn’t make me corrupt,” Ormewood answers.

“What? No, this case, there’s something… I don’t know.”

“I can find it.”

You and Ormewood sigh together before you see GBI Special Agent Will Trent standing before you. Ormewood mouths good luck and then returns to his own work. And the pencil tapping.

“Let me read the files,” Will says.

“Will,” you begin, closing the folder, “you only want to help because you’re bored. Which means you’re going to ask to go out in the field and drag me all over Fulton County, which I am not in the mood for today. So, thanks, but no thanks.”

“Just Fulton County?” Will clarifies, attempting to see the crime scene photos on your desk.

“None of your concern, Agent Trent,” you reply with a smile. “We’ve got it.”

“There’s nothing to do around here!” he complains as he tosses his arms up. “Just pencil tapping!”

Ormewood winks at you as he switches up the rhythm of his tapping. “I didn’t know it was that easy to get out of working with Trent. I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Yeah, you can’t just say no, you have to make it about him,” you explain, closing your eyes as you sit back in your seat.

Ormewood laughs, then rephrases to say, “You tell him it’s not me, it’s you.”

You hum, but then your eyes snap open. “Say that again.”

“It’s not me, it’s you?”

“What am I interrupting?” Faith asks, stopping behind you.

“Didn’t somebody just get cut from the Braves?”

“Uh, excuse me?” Faith tries again.

“In a minute!” Ormewood snaps, leaning toward you. “Yeah. He was training to be a pitcher. Had the potential to be a star pitcher, take us to the world championship.”

“What happened?”

“They had evidence he bought drugs. Swore he wasn’t using, and all of his drug tests came back clean.”

“It’s not me… it's you,” you say under your breath.

“Where’s Will?” Faith inquires.

“Faith,” Ormewood answers, shaking his head as he answers, “no one here cares. We’re not keeping up with your partner.”

“I got it!” you cheer, knocking your chair back as you stand.

“Will. Trent. So-tall, rambles, anybody seen him?” Faith says. “It’s like talking to children.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ormewood offers, trailing behind you as you rush toward the elevators.

Faith watches, tipping her head as she wonders, “Or is it more like puppy dogs?”

“Okay, so Truist Park is at the 75/285 interchange,” you explain. “You can get on either interstate and get anywhere in Atlanta without being noticed. But Dobbins Air Reserve Base is just a few miles up 41 from the stadium.”

“Right,” Ormewood agrees. “But what’s the connection of those locations to the missing girls?”

“These girls were from Atlanta’s nicest neighborhoods. Areas where our city officials sit on the HOA board, or whatever rich people do in fancy neighborhoods. Take a few residents, get the attention of all of the powerful people in the city…”

You trail off, and Ormewood connects, “You get leverage to get what you want.”

“Right, at least in criminal logic. So, this pitcher gets cut on a technicality and decides to show Atlanta what they’re losing, maybe try to blackmail his way back onto the team.”

“Or?”

“Or someone else is trying to get him back on the team. He’s got a cousin, according to his Braves profile, that works at Robbins. The proximity makes me think he’s holding these girls on the base. Granted, I could be way off, and it has nothing to do with a baseball team.”

“Worth a shot. I’ll find your guy, and you look for a hiding place fit for teenage girls?”

“Sounds good.” You look over the top of the car as you climb out and say, “Be careful.”

“You too.”

You answer your phone as you follow a uniformed MP officer through the base to check the lowest security areas of the base.

“I found someone who wants to talk to you,” Ormewood says.

“No, I don’t!” a man argues.

“I don’t believe anyone, ever, on principle. But this is your case, so I’ll hold him here until you’re ready.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right over.”

After the MP officer agrees to finish the search and call your watch commander if he finds anything, you walk across the base and find Ormewood with one arm stretched out and his hand pressed lazily against your suspect.

“Trevor?” you ask the man. “I’m a detective with the APD. I have a few questions for you.”

“I want a lawyer,” he answers.

Ormewood scoffs, and you shake your head at him.

“Are you sure you can’t just answer a couple quick questions?” you ask. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“There are five missing girls out there,” Ormewood seethes, wrapping Trevor’s shirt around his hand. “Think very carefully about how you answer.”

“Lawyer!”

Ormewood steps closer to the man, but you wrap your hand around his wrist and shake your head.

“Alright. Trevor, I’m placing you under arrest for reasonable suspicion of abduction,” you begin, placing handcuffs on him. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, which you’ve already exercised, so we can’t ask you any more questions.”

“We just think about how guilty that makes you look,” Ormewood adds as he pushes your suspect into the backseat of the car.

“Officers!” the MP officer yells behind you. “I found something!”

“No, he didn’t!” Trevor yells against the window. “You didn’t find anything, man! Say psych!”

“Psych is not admissible in court,” you point out. “Lead the way, officer.”

“Why are you in my chair?” you ask as you return to your desk after receiving a full confession and recovering all of the abducted girls.

“I decided to offer my services anyway,” Will explains. “You seemed busy. The missing girls are-“

“Home,” Ormewood finishes. “We found them two-and-a-half hours ago.”

“How?” Will questions, clearly surprised by the outcome.

“Not all cases are solved on pure luck or weirdly timed flashbacks, Trent.”

“The whole thing screamed leverage,” you explain with a shrug. “I just had to find someone who needed the rich and powerful on his side. Someone desperate enough to stage numerous abductions to do it.”

“Well, now there really is nothing to do here. Have either of you seen Faith?”

Will stands from your seat as Ormewood suggests, “Maybe try calling each other.”

“Thanks for all of your help today,” you tell Ormewood once you’re alone again. He nods, and you ask, “Why’d you get rough with Trevor?”

“If it was my daughter, I’d want to know exactly where she was as soon as possible. He was going to keep stalling, and a public defender would have loved using his situation to delay until it was too late to save them.”

“Can you tap your pencil again?”

“What?” Ormewood asks, shock and confusion evident in the single syllable.

“It… I like knowing that you’re here, close, okay.”

Ormewood nods slowly, then begins tapping his eraser against his desk. You shift your focus to the paperwork for the case, but Ormewood watches you. Something about his presence seems to help you, provide a comfort that he hadn’t even noticed. More surprising, he thinks, is that he likes knowing how his presence makes you feel.

“Is it just my tapping?” he asks. He seems as surprised to hear the question as you.

“If it is?” you counter. “Will you move to a different desk?”

“I was thinking we find out if sharing a table only works at the station.”

“Are you asking me out?” you clarify.

“I didn’t anticipate the interrogation it would take to get an answer, but yes.”

You smile and tap your pen against your hand with Ormewood’s beat as you answer, “I’d love to.”

“I have got to stop coming down here with questions,” Faith announces as she abandons her goal and returns the way she came.

[ofluckandmagic]

If it wasn’t the noticeable discomfort, Eydis probably would have continued hastily raking through Shadowheart’s hair with their fingers. They’re fingers tug a little harsher than usual, used to their own thick locks. Part of Eydis couldn’t really believe the fact that she trusted them like this.

“Sorry!” Eydis exclaims, stilling their fingers momentarily in her hair. A nervous smile graces their lips, hands trembling ever so slightly.

The sooner they could get out of this place, the better everything would be. While it sounded rather promising, slaying a drow in exchange for… something, Eydis wasn’t entirely convinced it would do them much good. They hadn’t been paying much attention, but the Druid hopes that will be worth their time and efforts. Admittedly, their hope is starting to dwindle the longer this adventure went on. Trusting talking mushrooms feels like the least of their concerns.

Yesterday’s adventure had been a tad too nerve wracking for them, if they were being honest, and while they had used what little reserves of magic they had to ease the pain, Shadowheart was still injured. It’s your fault… Their own mind whispered back at them. Guilt gnaws at them like they had seen Scratch gnaw at some bone.

“You’re very welcome, Shadowheart! Anything to help!” Their response is a bit too cheery, and while they realize quickly that’s the case, Eydis still isn’t entirely sure why Shadowheart chose them to help braid her hair. Trust was obviously a factor, though they feel hesitant to believe it’s the only factor. Helping people, it’s what they did. At least they tried to….

Exhaustion tugs at the back of their mind as they continue braiding the Cleric’s hair, trying to be gentle. It isn’t hard for them to braid hair. Not really. Years prior to this whole mess, Eydis wore their hair in a similar braid. Albeit, thicker than Shadowheart’s own braid, it still is not a difficult task. Their words flow in a much more sincere tone, dropping the overly cheerful and optimistic act they tend to bring to the table whenever the situation calls for it.

“You aren’t a bother…. Not at all. Quite, frankly I enjoy spending time with you… even when I’m exhausted.”

@ofluckandmagic sent [ braid ] to fix some hair.

It is noticeable discomfort she feels here. Foreign fingers sifting through dark locks, and tugs against her scalp she cannot anticipate. It is with profound trust that she allows this, but her hands burn, and she currently lacks the dexterity required to style herself without considerable pain.

"Don't tug so hard." she scolds, a faint hiss to her sentence. A trickle of sweat makes a path along her forehead, nearly seeping into her eye.

The sooner they haul ass out of Grymforge, the happier she will be. Why are they even wasting their breath all the way down here? To slay some pompous drow on behalf of a talking mushroom? How exhausting.

Yesterday's exploration had her hands far too close to the lava, and she's since been too exhausted of her strength to properly salve her wounds. It's humiliating, being forced to ask Eydis for help with such a simple task, but desperation outran her pride.

"… I'm not sure if I've expressed my gratitude yet, but, thank you." There were a few candidates on deck for her choice, actually. But Lae'zel's braiding left much to be desired, Astarion seemed to only know his way around fanciful curls, and Wyll's hair demanded an entirely separate grooming technique. So, Eydis had won her nomination.

"I hope this isn't too much of a bother. I'm sure you're just as tired as the rest of us."

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

Hello, Rotomblr. We are sisters living in Driftveil City alongside several Pokémon and one other human. You may recognize us from our former roles in Team Plasma, or from our subsequent involvement in restoration and rehabilitation programs.

I am Concordia (she/her). I work as a reference librarian, and type in black. I don't battle, but my registered Pokémon are Ginger the Growlithe♀ and Merriam and Webster the Unown.

I'm Anthea. I am aroace and use whatever pronouns you use. I professionally train audino for Pokémon Center work, and type in pink text. Please do not address me by the title "Lady." My battling team are Clover the Beedrill♂, Sunny the Cottonee♀, Hestia the Larvesta♀, Dawn the Genesect, and Iconoclast the Dwebble♀.

We are also collectively responsible for Cartwright the Porygon♀ and Campfire Smoke the Zorua♂.

Others we frequently speak of include our brother N, Connie's daughter Tropius (@/wingsofachampion), and our housemate Rood and his Pokémon (Snuffles the Swoobat, Lulu the Herdier, and Cinnamon the Fidough).

//(full ref)

//ooc:

Magic anons: OFF | Pelipper Mail and Mystery Gift: ON | Musharna Mail: OFF | IC anon hate: selective, may delete | Union Circle: selective, see info on in-person RP below

this blog involves themes of past child abuse and cults. common tags for that are "cult tw" and "child abuse tw" or "cult mention tw" and "abuse mention tw." All tags follow the "[topic] tw" format. Please lmk if I miss a relevant tag. -mod info+other rules below cut

mod info

name is Oncilla, she/her/it/its. adult. likes/follows from @oncillaphoenix.

I am afflicted with the Curse (long covid) and have chronic brain fog and fatigue because of it. I may be slow to respond to things due to this.

if you're wondering what timezone i operate based on, me too. my circadian rhythm is a demented carousel and the state i live in is disarray

@tranquill-feathers is an in-universe sideblog to this blog.

follow my hub blog @oncillamoltres for behind-the-scenes rambling and a list of my other pkmn irl blogs.

rp info:

Games-based timeline, with the events of Pokémon Black taking place in 2010. pokemon intelligence works more like in the anime though

Generally ranges from low stakes through drama stakes (as described here). I may get involved with high-stakes events at my own discretion/if our characters have an established relationship, but my characters will definitely not be in the thick of the action because I don't have the energy to keep up with that, and i reserve the right to bow out at any time if I get overwhelmed.

will engage with: sapient pokemon, including legendaries and mythicals; fallers; doubles and alternate versions of associated characters (the multiverse is very much a thing here); crossover blogs (but keep in mind that i probably won't know your source material at all ^-^'); pretty much if you're not listed below you're good to interact (although i reserve the right to add things to the list)

will not engage with: anything involving glitches, meta horror, or strong fourth wall breaks; blogs that feature pokemon consumption as a major focus; events or posts featuring character death (especially of a violent nature) or extensive pokemon harm (may interact a little bit at my own discretion but don't count on it. canon character death or deaths in backstories are fine as long as they're not in too much detail); anything involving cannibalism. don't send me anything involving this content without asking first even if it's outside the context of RP.

please no nsfw asks! mildly suggestive jokes are ok but keep it PG-13.

offscreen/in-person RP (where the characters are interacting face-to-face instead of replying to each other's comments) takes a lot out of me energy-wise. because of this, i won't be accepting any of this kind of RP starter unless a) our characters have interacted before, and b) we've discussed it out of character first.

[rhythm-twist-and-bones]

WELCOME!

Disclaimer! Bad things will happen at times whether it be Plot or magic Anons.

Status: All turtles are available for Asks

Familia Bones: Separated AU.

Turtle twist: Turtle swap.

Rhythm & Rhyme: Music magic n stuff idk

Don't harass me or others that's rude no matter how your spin it.

Don't be weirdly flirty. Compliments are fine but it is best to be transparent as I can't tell intentions through text

If a Anon signature (Emoji or symbol etc) is already being used don't steal it

Don't be gross the Muses are minors.

Tags

Me myself I and us: Neutral rp? Like not an arc just casual. Aka the Open RP tag and RP ask tag (does that make sense?)

Rising Shellraisers: Lore and the like (headcanons)

Traditional Stars: Past events

Red Ramblings, Blathering Blues, Purple Palavers and Orange Orations: Just the boys talking

Do Not!

ASK NSFW QUESTIONS.

Ship the Muses together. Just DON'T.

Mod/Ooc Tags: Maus, Dreamer's Dozen and DsD.

[happymaskseller]

((Don’t mind me, just casually working on extremely belated Linktober prompts at 1 in the damn morning.))

[ofluckandmagic]

Ooc: It’s finals season, which is part of why I’ve been so inactive. But I’m done with 1 of the 5 finals and halfway through the other four!! So that means I should finish well before finals week.

[misteria247]

I'm gonna kill Santa Claus~