#rpwiththelilflower

[cloudpools]

The sight of Madison getting flustered calmed the slowly building rage down. Not rage at her, but at the people who had obviously hurt her and made her this nervous. "Listen... I'm a fair guy. You share some letters, I'll share some of my art I drew when I was younger." It was a wonder why he even kept that shit around... Something about reminding himself where he started and how far he'd come?

Whatever.

Carter groaned. "Oh, come on. I wasn't sayin' that you couldn't ask personal shit. Just poking fun. I didn't mean anything by it." Madison was averting her gaze, fidgeting. Was it getting boring sitting at the bar? She'd looked at the pool table... "You wanna continue our conversation over a game? I'll even let you pick. Pool or darts?" Standing, he gestured to the back of the bar that was surprisingly pretty empty for a Friday night. Did everyone have a hard week or something and just wanted to drink?

Again, whatever.

Carter guided her through the crowd of bodies, being sure to push through first so she had a way to walk. Every so often someone would clap him on the shoulder and he'd shrug it off, not having time for drunk people's bullshit tonight. He wasn't trying to get drunk this time. He was trying to make sure Madison had a good time. It didn't take long for them to get back their personal space. He set his drink on the edge of the pool table. "Now let me answer your laundry list." He cracked a smile, trying to show he was just joking.

"I think you're gunna be a little disappointed though. It wasn't like a big special moment. I just took an art class in kindergarten and the teachers praised me for being able to draw more than a smudge." He laughed, walking around the table. "So the teachers told my parents and my parents got me a sketchbook. That's the one I was talkin' about earlier. The stuff in there is super rough, but fuck! I was only five? Six?" It still kind of embarrassed him though. Again, why had he kept it around?

"Now. Pool or darts? And that doesn't count as my question. We're makin' the rules up as we go." Depending on what she picked, he'd either grab a cue and start racking balls or start collecting darts. "You got a bucket list? I feel like we all do... So what's at the top?"

At first Madison wasn’t sure what to make of the whistle. Was he making fun of her? Was he being honest? Were her nails pretty? Well ofcourse they were! Atleast, Madison thought so…

“It’s a nice hour or so of conversation when I go.” She looked down at her nails again & a corners of her mouth twitched up in a soft satisfied smile. Seeing something so peaceful & hers was comforting. Even if he wasn’t being serious, it was nice to be lied to.

Her attention finally pulled away from her nails & she smiled a bit, “that would be nice. I haven’t been shopping w/ someone in so long. Maybe I’ll actually be able to bring myself to buy something. Sometimes I carry items around the store & by the end of it all, I set them down cause I think someone else would love it more than me, & I should let that person have it instead.” Because she didn’t need alot to be happy. She had a few pretty pieces in her home & no one enjoyed them but her, it would be selfish to want something more that she really didn’t need.

He spoke the obvious & she huffed, “I guess you’re right.” Which made her wrong? God she hated being wrong. It actually made her eye twitch. The brief silence after her confession was actually preferred because his next statement had her horrified. “Oh god no.” Her hands came up to fan her heated face, “no no it’s so embarrassing, you’ll think I’m crazy.” Ofcourse he would think that, hell she thought it about herself.

These letters they were just… ridiculous. They were sad desperate attempts to live in a fantasy land where maybe she could find someone who wasn’t repulsed by her. “I-I don’t know…. Just seems silly to say it outloud.” That came out in a little mumble not intended for him to hear.

Seemingly more frazzled that before she looked over her shoulder at the ruckus coming from behind her. The bar was definitely not her element but it wasn’t horrible. There were actually many interesting things her eyes were drawn to. Like the pool table, she’d never played before, but it looked fun. Or the other drinks of the different tables, what were they? Part of her wanted to ask. And the clothes people were wearing? What unique statements. She loved fashion herself & could appreciate a personal style. But rather than pursue those curiosities she cleared her throat, “I won’t ask anymore personal questions…. Sorry.”

Using her index she pushed her glass away trying to distract herself by focusing on a task. Slight tapping started, “well…. Ummm… how’d you find out you were a painter? Like…. Did you always paint? Or one day you just decided to give it a shot & you found you really liked it? Or maybe one of your parents was into it & it was always apart of you?” Before he could say anything she laughed softly to herself, “heh, I did it again didn’t I?”

Small hands ran through the hair at her shoulders, “I asked you too many questions.” Brown eyes glanced into his & she had to avert. His eyes were pretty, it was… distracting.

[aerospectrum]

starter for @rpwiththelilflower

Dean focused on matter at hand, getting the lid on this guys to go cup of flat sprite and making sure he had a ride home from the bar-- a safe ride. He watched the guys friends collect him and turned his attention back to the girl at the far end of the counter still nursing a half full glass of water. "You know, I could doctor that up for you.. throw a few lemons in, a lime, hell even a cherry if it gets that sour look off your face." he teases, leaning forward on the bar counter. "What brings you in here, huh, bad breakup?"

[thebibliophilevigilante]

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower

[ruinedsoulsrp]

Starter for @rpwiththelilflower

"I told you to stop asking about that, it's getting irritating." he commented, dark hues rolling slightly as he brought the cigarette back to his lips.

[wearebatbrats]

“Yep, that’s the one.” He didn't bother correcting her on the name of the blades; the point was moot anyway. “My father was really into it and wanted me to experience it I guess.” He said with a shrug, thinking about the way his father used to pit him against Gregor. He was always so much bigger than him, it wasn't fair.

"I don't get out much," He admitted, not sure how to explain that he had his duties behind the castle walls while Terra had gotten to move to America. Her duties be damned.

"I really like Stephen King." He told her after a moment of sifting through all of the authors he had been interested in lately, most of which weren't even English, but he didn't want to come off as pretentious. "What do you like to read?"

"I'm sure my sister will grow sick of me and would appreciate if someone else showed me around. So thank you."

“Fence?” Madison questioned while turning in her seat a bit but managing to keep her foot on the brake. “Like, w/ the swords?”

The smile on her face wanted to giggle, not to tease, just because it was a unique hobby. “Thats pretty cool. How did you pick that up?” Cars began moving & she turned her attention away from Brion. “Painfully boring?” Her sweet tone repeated, “what do you like to read?” Without giving him a chance to answer she smirked to herself, “I like to be read to…”

Sensing his shyness she decided not to torment him further & look at him again. “You’re not imposing if I’m offering…”

[sanniewrites]

closed starter for: @rpwiththelilflower muse: tanaka kenji, 28, software developer

"I seem to see you here often. You must really like your coffee." Kenji couldn't help but joke a bit as smiled at the woman. "I hope I'm not bothering you at all though. Just thought you could use a little company. If not, I can leave." He didn't wanna force anything and just looked at her as he waited for an answer.

[scinglives]

@rpwiththelilflower

"I know it's not quite what we had in mind." Callum commented as he brought in the takeout pizza. Not only had his babysitter cancelled so he had to wait until his daughter was in bed, and then he ended up burning the food he had planned on them having because he was unexpectedly racing around after a five year old. "But hey, we have beer and wine if you want one? The candles at least make it feel like a date, if you ignore the stuffed toys everywhere. Izzy was having a hard time choosing which one she wanted to take to bed tonight."

[twistedgrace]

Buck blinked in surprise when a voice called back—not from the station, but from across the street. He leaned forward slightly, spotting the silhouette of someone standing on their balcony, curiosity evident even in the dim light. Her question made him laugh. “Trade secret,” he called back, his tone light and teasing. “But let’s just say, being a firefighter has its perks. Climbing’s kind of in the job description.”

He swung his legs a little, grinning at the stranger who seemed genuinely intrigued rather than annoyed by his unorthodox perch. "Sometimes you just need a little elevation to get perspective," he added, his voice carrying easily across the quiet street. "Though technically, I’m probably breaking a few rules being up here." Buck shrugged, the playful tone in his words masking the deeper thoughts he’d been wrestling with just moments ago. "What about you?"

Buck didn’t wait for her to answer right away, letting the sound of the quiet street fill the space between them. “Name’s Buck, by the way,” he added after a beat, gesturing lazily to himself. “If you’re gonna call out to a guy on a roof in the middle of the night, might as well be on a first-name basis, don’t you think?” He leaned back slightly, still watching her with a mix of curiosity and genuine friendliness, his usual charm effortlessly shining through.

It had been 10 months since she moved to the new city. And needless to say, it was a lot harder to pack up her life into a few suitcases & make the move than she originally thought. This new city wasn’t too bad though.

She had a nice apartment, w/ a nice balcony that gave her a view. And lucky her, she lived across the street from a fire department, & just up the road was the police station. Talk about feeling safe right?

Tonight she was sitting on her balcony w/ a book rereading the same page over & over again simply because she just couldn’t focus. Every once in awhile the lonely feeling would gnaw at her & she became uncomfortable in her own home. Today was one of those nights. She shut her book leaning her head back w/ closed eyes almost ready to call it a night before an unfamiliar voice called out.

She sat up right & looked across the way to see a man sitting on the room of the fire station. Curiously she pushed off her love seat & walked to her rail. “How’d you even get up there???” She called back loudly w/ a smile.

[cloudpools]

😴 Madison falling asleep w/ her head in carters lap 😭

Misc Action Memes || ⚜Not Accepting⚜

😴 - to fall asleep on your muse. ((Madison falling asleep w/ her head in carters lap 😭)) for @rpwiththelilflower

Sometimes being your own boss was a pain in the ass. Sometimes you just wanted to spend time with a cute girl, but responsibilities got in the fucking way. Sometimes, that cute girl was okay just sitting with you while you worked. Sometimes she liked to paint alongside you, feeling safe to express herself. Other times she just wanted to talk.

Madison was charming like that. Boisterous, full of energy, always yapping. It was nice to paint and listen to her voice. Every so often she would throw in suggestions about his piece, but mostly she would talk about everything and anything going on with her, her work, her life, and Carter had come to love listening to it. Every so often he would hum and nod, reassuring her that he was still listening, but for the most part, he would focus on painting, letting her get everything out.

It wasn't unusual for Carter to change up where he painted. Standing in his repurposed dining room, moving his set up to the balcony, or taking his painting to a more scenic location, it all depended on his mood. His mood on this winter night? Cozy. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he had a blanket carefully wrapped around himself and Madison while he worked on his latest commission. A portrait of some hoity-toity family. Whatever. It paid the bills.

Madison was going through her usual rundown, but it seemed that today had been more exhausting. Something about holiday crunch time? Or maybe this was just too comfortable and warm, his body heat radiating off in waves under the blanket, causing the shorter woman to slump against him. Carter snorts. "You know, it's a little hard to work when you're leaning against my painting arm, Mads..." He's smiling, not actually bothered by the gesture, but he quirks a pierced brow when she doesn't answer, pulling his hazel eyes away from his work and down toward the woman who had fallen fast asleep at his side.

Carter chuckles lightly, carefully reaching for a pillow from his couch, before gently repositioning her more comfortably in his lap. She looked peaceful, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, stroking the back of his hand along her cheek as he admired her sleeping so soundly. "Ya know, this sleeping beauty shit is cute and all, but I think you're much cuter when you're feisty..." Not that she was going to answer him, but it didn't matter. This was amusing. And he needed a break anyway. Leaning back on one hand, he continued petting her, waiting patiently for her to wake up. If she didn't wake up soon, he'd be forced to go to sleep on the floor with her... but would that be so awful? Nah. Carter leaned back, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep, warm, and with a full heart.

[aerospectrum]

semi-plotted starter for @rpwiththelilflower

The case file papers went flying around the dashboard and windshield the moment Castiel joined them, Dean’s leveled glare was met with an equal intensity from Cas who leaned forward between the shoulders of both brothers. “This is a simple haunt; why did I need to come with?”

“Because I asked you too; what- were you too busy searching for god on flatbread again?” Dean half turned over his shoulder; neglecting the road to make the dig at Cas.

“At least flatbread has character and taste-.”

“Alright, ok, enough! Jesus do you two ever stop and tell each other you appreciate the other?” Sam asked, a familiar huff passing between two lips as his features pulled taut and his brows cascaded downwards in an attempt to mediate the bickering men. “We don’t know if it’s a simple haunt, Cas, that’s why we called; some of these things happening sound a bit like angels.”

“You do understand the angels want nothing to do with me, correct?” Cas quirked one brow up then instantly squinted. “You have an angel blade with you- if any of them were to attack you’re both more than capable of—.”

“Look do you want to help or not, Cas?” Dean interrupted, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw Cas under the bus to his pride if he needed, but he was trying to spare the guys dignity. He’d overheard Cas telling Sam how expendable he felt along with how they only ever called when they needed him, like he was just an instrument of usefulness that didn’t belong unless he was smiting bad guys and making cross country deliveries of holy oils and lost weaponry. He wanted Cas to come with, spend some time with him and San so he could feel like he was part of them; maybe even family.

Dean pulled up to the house not long after Cas had relented and agreed to wanting to help. Sam was shifted sideways in the front going over some of the house details when Dean stopped the car and yanked the keys from the ignition. “Her name’s Madison, by the way… said she was the neighbor but ever since the guy passed somethings been following her around— thinks it’s lurking in the bedroom.” Sam patted Cas on the shoulder and nudged him to walk in line between himself and Dean as they walked up the steps of the front porch and knocked with enough force to scare the squirrels off the railing.

[aerospectrum]

semi plotted starter for @rpwiththelilflower

The steam from the shower fogged up the room when Cas emerged in his towel with a soaking wet mop of brown hair and soapy fresh skin. The cool air that hit him made his skin tingle, but it was rounding the corner of the hallway and nearly tackling his roommate that made him jump with a startled yelp that morphed into an embarrassed laugh. “Jeez Louise!… you scared me.”

He stood leaned against the wall with his hands gripping the front of his towel to keep it from loosening while he tried to think of a way to lessen the awkwardness that grew between himself and his more or less, stranger of a roommate.

“Sorry, I mean for almost mowing over you- I didn’t think anyone was here this time of day.” He offered the sentiment with shifting eyes. “I’m… not too loud upstairs for you am I? Because I can turn the music down if you ever hear it and I… can check the place over before coming down here if that, I don’t know, makes it less weird for you.” His cheeks flushed red with quiet anxiety the more he stood there feeling overwhelmingly exposed.

[cloudpools]

Nonverbal rp starters! || ⚜Accepting⚜

😺 hold my muse after they woke up from a nightmare ⏰️ wake my muse up from a nightmare For @rpwiththelilflower

Living next door to each other had its perks. Too tired to head home? Whatever. The next morning was a quick five step walk to your own bathroom. Your own closet. It was often that the two would find each other in the other's bed. Well... Not just the bed. The couch. The floor. Wherever they'd set up shop for the night, talking, or working or just enjoying each other's company. Never silently (Madison could never let that happen), but more together these days than not. It was nice.

Tonight, they found themselves on Carter's mattress. Classic bachelor fashion, it was on the floor. No bed frame. No box spring. The room was relatively empty. He kind of preferred the couch? So it was rare for him to hang out in there besides when he was... 'entertaining' company. Though Madison didn't look very entertained right now, body tossing and turning in the sheets, waking him up.

Carter was going to give her shit about it. Of course she was a blanket stealer... But the crying and whining stopped him short. Mischievous smirk dropped, face wrinkling in concern. "Mads... Hey, Mads. Wake up." It took a bit of shaking, a bit more calls of her name before she's jolting awake.

Madison was clearly startled, and Carter was quick to wrap her into a hug, curling his body around hers while she struggled a bit in his arms. Carter's voice was low, soothing. "Shhhhh, it's okay. It was just a dream." He rocks her, until all the fight she was throwing at him boiled away into a soft cry into his chest.

"I got you, Mads. Want to talk about it? Might help you get back to sleep."

[cloudpools]

⚜ For @rpwiththelilflower

Baking was a type of art, right? So why the FUCK couldn't he get this right? He didn't have time to run out and buy more ingredients (that would be the second time today)... Not to mention the whole starving artist thing... He didn't have the cash currently for shit like this. Especially in this economy. So, it'd have to do...

Burnt fingers wrap on Madison's door, the other holding a plate. The cake atop it was caved in at the center. One single measly layer with icing that almost looked like water with how runny it was. He'd had the idea to paint her something in icing. But FUCK! That didn't work out. It was more like abstract art than the original portrait he'd planned... Maybe he should have tried the cake before bringing it over too... Did it even taste good? Fuck fuck fuck!!!

Carter has half the mind to throw the shitty cake, but before he can make that decision, Madison was opening the door. "Heard it was your birthday..." He said, almost as deflated as the cake. It's not often that the punk got embarrassed, but this was definitely something he was going to keep himself up at night over.

Regardless, he was determined, lowering the cake so she could see it. "Happy Birthday, Mads." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter, carefully lighting the candle that was in very serious danger of toppling over. "Not sure if this thing will grant you any sort of wish, but ya better hurry up and blow it out before we light this apartment up." He smiled. Well. At least he tried.

[thebibliophilevigilante]

A sigh of relief caused Jason’s chest to heave as his arms tightened around Madison. It was short-lived, however. Her hand had found its way onto his thigh, causing his breath to hitch. When she started rubbing it, he had to look anywhere but her, trying to keep her soothed while remaining relaxed himself. He didn’t want to have an…unfortunate situation arise.

The cab of the ferris wheel rocked, and her hand squeezed tighter. Though her moans were in distress, it still shot fire through his veins. Fuck. He had to keep himself distracted or it was about to get really embarrassing really quickly.

“W-We’re talking body counts?” he laughed nervously, fingers moving through her hair quicker out of anxiousness. “We…tried to do normal couple things when we could. Like I said, they had similar jobs to me, so we weren’t always able to find the time. There were just a handful, five, since I can see the wheels in that pretty little head of yours turning.”

He rested his head against hers as he considered the next question. “In the cases with them, perhaps it was a wrong place, wrong time situation, or that I’m just…damaged. Everyone has their pasts, their secrets. Sometimes the baggage is too much to carry or shoulder. They are all great women, but…maybe they’re just better off without me.”

His heart constricted in his chest. Maybe Madison would have been better without him, too.

At her inquiry about his past, he let out a soft chuckle. “Well, they were all badasses, number one. They held their own against the toughest opponents, even regular civilians in Gotham. You know they can be rough around the edges.” He hoped she would take that the way he intended, that she was a badass, just like they were. “They even held their own with me, gave me a run for my money and always kept me guessing, kept me on my toes.”

He smirked mischievously, leaning down to kiss her ear. “That’s why I’m not going to go easy on you when we play, pretty girl. I know you’re going to give it your all, being the badass you are, and I won’t make it easy on you.”

They finally reached the peak, and he leaned his head forward. Her brown eyes were open then, and she was gazing out at where the Gotham skyline met the Atlantic Ocean. The smile on her face was worth it. The kiss to his cheek was a bonus. He squeezed her tightly in pride.

“There you go. That’s my good girl. You made it to the top and you’re overcoming your…aversion. I’m proud of you.”

Lowering his voice, the hand that had been across her midsection came down to rest on her hand covering his thigh. “I’d say…that’s cause for celebration with a sweet treat, don’t you?”

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower

[cloudpools]

❗️ Madison is a grabby girl! But also… easily flustered if she’s grabbed

Misc Action Memes || ⚜Not Accepting⚜

❗️ - for my muse to hold your muse’s chin as a way of getting attention. ((Madison is a grabby girl! But also… easily flustered if she’s grabbed)) for @rpwiththelilflower

Carter was the kind of guy who spoke his mind when he was mad. Though he was more introverted, that didn't stop him from stepping in when people were being assholes, or saying the hard truths that others very rarely wanted to hear. Not to imply that everything he had to say was negative. He was the kind of guy who also gave praise where praise was due, and you'd often find him in the corner of a packed bar listening intently to those around him. Taking it in. Happy to be involved.

Madison, though? The more he spent time with her, the more he was starting to understand her quirks. One of the more annoying ones was her clamming up when she was mad. It was easy to notice, because usually she didn't shut up (which was one of her more redeeming qualities), and now, as they were strolling through the light snowfall back to their apartment complex, her lips were sealed.

Carter had half a mind to let her simmer, but the other part of him couldn't keep quiet. Nope. He had to needle at her. "Oi. I can see the steam comin' off your head. Don't you think it'd be better to open your mouth and let it out rather than holdin' it in?" The only thing he got in response was a harumph, tiny feet stomping harder as they neared their destination. Not even so much as a glance in his direction. God, she would be so much cuter if she weren't being so god damn annoying right now.

"Hey!" He stops, moving to block her path into their building. When she continues to try and dodge him, refusing to look up and push past, he grabs her under the chin, pulling her gaze into his. Madison was still trying to avoid eye contact. Still fighting to get away. Carter couldn't help but smile at that, which must have been taken the wrong way because she was getting redder (madder??? More like more flustered!).

"Madison, I can't read your fuckin' mind. You gotta tell me what's wrong, otherwise I won't be able to fix it!" Clearly, he had done something she didn't like. Not that he felt like he'd done anything wrong that night... But she tended to get in her own head about shit that wasn't that big a deal. "I hate it when you won't talk to me, Mads. That's your whole thing and it don't feel right... I've gotten used to hearin' that pretty voice o' yours. Now tell me. What's wrong?"

[cloudpools]

USE THIS GENERATOR TO RANDOMLY CREATE 10 HEADCANONS FOR YOUR MUSE & BOLD ALL THAT ACTUALLY APPLY.

Blythe is great with kids. ((I think Blythe is the kind of weird that kids would flock to. I think she would be very confused why they liked her, but a little part of her would be glowing inside that they did.

Blythe is awful with kids. ((LOL see #1

Blythe is a cat person. ((Absolutely. She loves all animals but I think in terms of house pets, she'd have a cat or bunny.

Blythe is a top. ((GOD NO. I almost spit out my drink. Pillow princess alert

Blythe is constantly singing for no reason. ((Not full-blown song, but she tends to hum to herself often.

Blythe cringes at their middle school yearbook photos. ((I don't think she thinks about middle school much... that was the worst time of her life for different reasons.

Blythe bites their nails. ((As much as Blythe fidgets and is always picking at her clothes when she's nervous, she doesn't actually bite her nails!

Blythe can't spell resturaunt. ((Blythe is a writer! And with that comes good spelling!

Blythe is a sleepwalker. ((I feel like she used to be??? When she was younger... From the #trauma! But sleepwalking for her now is when Blane takes over!

Blythe has punched a hole in their wall. ((Blane has with Blythe's fist? So that counts right? LOL

— TAGGED BY: @2isms ((Thank you <3

— TAGGING: @the-haunted-office, @chaosmicjelly, @bloodylariat, @lostusagis, @grandpiratecrew, @rpwiththelilflower , @memorieskept and anyone who sees this and wants to do it!