Hope This Is Okay! - Blog Posts

❛ oh, this guy’s hilarious. ❜

Livick, a new provisional science Lieutenant that had been assigned to the Enterprise from the USS Carlsbad, had seemed to be an exuberant welcome among the ensigns and cadet class crew; which wasn’t too far from Nyota’s mind and even she hadn’t been above the contagious energy a crewman brought. Currently Livick was ornating a small group of ensigns at his table, one of whom was a round, faced cheerful nurse Chekov had nurtured a fondness for over the better part of a few long haul warps and who seemed to have grown closer to their new Lieutenant; leaving her crewmate and, more importantly, her friend - a little soured. Maybe, what she suspected, even a little hurt.

Nyota was nothing if not a fiercely loyal friend.

“ Well you know what isn’t hilarious ? I heard his work is sloppy, late, not swept for banal errors. Also he eats french fries with mayo only - can you imagine ? No thank you. ” She spoke as though her branding of subversive disapproval was a solution rather than the band aide it really was, on what she feared was a bit of a bigger wound than all that. However, she was willing to weather it’s ache out in good company, food and drink.

“ So I say we order something fucking incredible in rebellion of Lieutenant Livick’s tragically bad taste .”

(I'm not going to say what my real name is so you know.) Hello! I would like to request a Merlin ship if I could? i'm Dew and I'm 5'7 almost 5'8, Fair skinned (Well not on my feet, I go bare foot most of the time.) Long butt length blond hair, Glasses and blue eyes. I wouldn't say i'm a tomboy, but I don't care for so much for girly outfits. I'm very hyper and love to make people laugh. I'm also very open minded and love to draw and listen music. I also have a love for food, even if i'm skinny.

Hi, Dew/Gabya! Sorry this took me so long! Thanks so much for your patience. ❤️

I ship you with Gwaine and I think you’d be best friends with Percival.

Gwaine would love your energetic, openminded, passionate, humorous, empathetic, and kind personality. You two would mesh really well due to your shared love of humor, sense of compassion, and shared love of food. The two of you would definitely travel all over Camelot and beyond the kingdom’s reaches to sample all sorts of foods together. He’d enjoy seeing your drawings and would often take you on his travels so you can have different and interesting things to sketch. Gwaine would find your forgetfulness a bit amusing and might banter about it lightly, but he’d definitely make a note of remembering everything pertaining to you in case you forget something important. He’d probably keep an eye out when he’s on patrol or on a quest for any potential pets for you. You’d probably end up with a dog or two. He’d also definitely bring back souvenirs, even if those souvenirs are just apples or some other food item. The two of you, along with Percival, would definitely be some great pranksters and the harmless but funny pranks would simultaneously irritate the victim and delight them. In short, you and Gwaine would just be a really great fit and I feel that the two of you would be incredibly adorable.

Percival and you would definitely be best pals due to your shared sense of compassion, empathy, humor, and love of food. There’d never be a dull moment with the two of you because you’d always be chasing the other around, joking about, or otherwise livening up the place. Percival would be very supportive of you and would be happy to lend an ear when something upsets you. He’d understand your sensitive nature due to his own experiences and would try to console you if something upsetting happens. He’d probably act like a mother hen with you and set up small reminders to ensure you don’t forget anything important. The two of you would have a grand old time pranking the other knights, taking food from the kitchens, and the like. The two of you, along with Gwaine, would be this unstoppable force of banter and pranks; truly, it’d be a sight to behold. Overall, the two of you just seem like you’d be a great fit.

Felix shifts slightly in the hospital bed, wincing as pain tugs at his ribs. His eyes flicker up to Cassia, then down just as quickly, like he’s not sure where to look. The bruises and cuts along his cheekbone are darkening, and his arm is strapped tight in a sling. He wets his lips, swallowing before he speaks.

"Hey," he says, voice rough, like he hasn’t used it much. His fingers twitch against the blanket. "Didn’t think you’d—uh… that you’d come when they told me they called you." He glances at her again, then away, like holding her gaze for too long might make something crack open. There’s a hesitation in the way his good hand shifts, like he almost wants to reach for her but thinks better of it. Instead, he just exhales softly.

"Sorry they called you." He pauses. "But… I’m glad you’re here."

- open to: m / f / nb (mutuals and non-mutuals) - muse: cassia crocetti, mid-late twenties, dance instructor. firecracker, outgoing, but can be hot-headed. very loyal and soft. - based on this prompt. feel free to dm me if you'd like to plot !!

"no, here's what you don't understand — " her voice is shrill, full of emotion. cassia has never been one to hold back, especially in a situation like this. "i don't care if the fucking pope is back there. i got a call saying they were hurt, that it was an emergency, and i'm here now, so what's the hold up?!" cassia makes a mental note to apologize later. it's not the nurse's fault that there's security and cassia doesn't have any patience. truthfully, her heart is racing. she's not sure what to expect. would they be bloodied and bruised? unconscious? the phone call was vague. her anxiety is the real reason she's being so ruthless. the guard finally ushers cassia to follow him. clad in leggings with an oversized hoodie, hair in a messy bun atop her head, she cautiously follows. he knocks at the door. "you have a visitor," the guard saunters off and cassia steps into the room, eyes glued to the hospital bed. "hey... they, um... they called me."

Astrid stared at the door, from the couch. Waiting to see if her visitor would disappear. The knocks sent a dull thud through her skull, each one landing like an unwelcome heartbeat. She knew it was Roman.

Of course, it was Roman. No one else cared enough to physically come to her apartment to check on her.

She hadn't meant to disappear—not really. But the weight of everything had settled in thick, pressing her into the couch, into the mattress, into the silence. Days blurred. Maybe weeks. She couldn't remember the last time she responded to a text.

Another set of knocks. His voice, firm but not unkind. Her fingers curled tight around the edge of a blanket she hadn't realized she dragged from the couch as she made her way over to the door, still not opening it.

Her throat was dry. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked. “what do you want?”

- open to: f / nb (mutuals and non-mutuals) - muse: roman serrano, mid-late twenties, twitch streamer who's just gotten pretty popular, lover boy, golden retriever type of guy. - based on this prompt. feel free to dm me if you'd like to plot !!

knuckles wrapped at his neighbor's door. it's out of the ordinary for roman to have the confidence to go to someone's door unannounced. he's always been the type to shoot a text when he's on his way and usually expected his guests to do the same. he was a private guy. roman couldn't help but worry, though, when his neighbor seemed to stop coming around. he hadn't even seen them at the mailboxes or in passing aside from once or twice and they didn't look good. while he used to hear laughter, talking, and more than one voice. he can only assume that there's been some sort of break up. he hates to think the worst, that the other person is dead, but he hasn't ruled it out. roman sighs and slides down the wall beside their door, sitting down. another three knocks. "i don't care what you look like or if there's cups all over the apartment -- can you just open the door?"

Winter rolled her eyes. "Does this mean you're kicking me out?" She asked, raising a brow not even bothering to explain herself.

"You realize that this is considered breaking and entering right? Just because you're my friend doesn't mean you can steal room cards and help yourself to a room for the night."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "I was booked by the guy who runs this place. Must be bored with his strippers. I don't know, I don't deal with that shit, I just go where I'm told." She stated simply shrugging out of his grip. "It's no big deal, I've dealt with dangerous people before, relax. They only want me for one thing. They've paid for the night, so I better get back in there."

OPEN TO ×  w / m / nb  21+

PLOT × Rocco has a "meeting" at a str.p club owned by his boss that is used by gangs and the mafia to do business. He catches your muse there (they can be a visitor, new employee, whatever) and is not happy. (please assume connection it can be anything from romantic to platonic!)

MUSE × rocco sterling [36] mafia member

Rocco was enraged. Anger caused his forehead to wrinkle and his heart pounded hard against his toned chest. His hand grabbed the other person’s upper arm as he dragged them outside. ❝What the hell are you doing here? I told you a thousand times not to come to a place like that!❞

Rit leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the other for a moment. His voice is calm, with a touch of understanding. "Yeah, I get it. It can get a little overwhelming out there." He shifts slightly, avoiding making too much of a scene, his tone more neutral. "Sometimes it's nice to step back, take a breather."

He glances at the beer in male's hand and then back at him, shrugging a little. "Not exactly the vibe I thought I'd get from a concert, but... everyone is different, I guess."

Rit tilts his head, the corners of his mouth barely twitching. "You planning to head back out, or just... hang out here for a while?"

open to anyone!

“oh yeah… don’t mind me.” mariano sits atop the counter of a bathroom in the concert venue as he waves on a stranger towards the empty stalls. he’d saved up to come here for weeks, and it’s a little embarrassing he’s now spending the concert hiding out from the crowd. there’s thumping vibrations in the walls- the songs can be heard just as good in here, basically, if you asked him. “it’s just a bit much out there, yeah?” he sips from his lonely beer, hoping the stranger doesn’t take too much pity on him.

Hayden's jaw tightens, the weight of her words hitting like a punch to the gut. His chest aches at the sight of her—so raw, so heartbreakingly certain of something he never meant for her to feel.

"Tilly—" His voice is rough, thick with emotion he barely knows how to contain. He steps forward, hesitant, as if afraid she'll slip right through his fingers. "That’s not true."

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "You don't actually think that, do you?" His eyes search hers, desperate for her to see the truth, to feel it the way he does. "I just don’t know how to love you the way you deserve. But don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t love you enough."

open to m / nb .

synopsis — matilda ' tilly ' zhang . the ultimate lover girl forever stuck in her day dreams . her heart is her biggest blessing & heaviest curse , falling in love fast & never truly falling out of it . your muse & tilly have been together for a while , & she's been burdened with the idea & insecurity that his feelings aren't equal to hers . so when a fight breaks out between the pair , she finally finds the courage to address it .

tilly's attempts of calming her breathing are weak , shaky inhale the only thing keeping tears from flooding over the brim of heartsick doe eyes . ' let's face it — . . ' she begins , ' i have always loved you more than you've ever loved me . ' hearing her insecurities spoken aloud is enough to commence the cascade of tears .

Kai let out a dry chuckle, leaning against the counter with ink-stained fingers drumming lazily against the surface. "Amusing?" he echoed, voice laced with that slow, detached drawl. "Nah. Just ironic." His smirk didn’t falter, if anything, it deepened. She was every bit the type that would turn her nose up at guys like him in broad daylight but find themselves in places like this, looking for something real when the walls of their perfect little lives started closing in.

He exhaled through his nose, crossing inked arms over his chest. "So, princess, what brings you to the dark side? Or did you just get lost on the way to a champagne brunch?"

pia was very much a cliche, down to a tee. head cheerleader, dated a jock, prom queen. her dad was in finance and was one of the richest men in the state which came with some baggage she will admit. for a long time she really enjoyed the endless perks that life gave her, but until recently she had tried to break apart from her father's name to shine on her own. not that she did much on a day to day basis being an heiress to a mass fortune and owning everything a person could dream of. she modelled and did various other campaigns especially for social media. she was the polar opposite of the man standing infront of her and how she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face already. "something amusing, bad boy?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow as she took a moment to drink in his appearance. @littledaydreamers

Oh. Oh shit.

Her heart stopped the second she saw the name above the message. That was not meant for him.

Ruby sat up so fast that she nearly knocked her phone out of her hands. Sleepy confusion turned into full-blown horror as she clicked back to the chat, praying she was hallucinating. Nope. There it was. Sent. Delivered. Read.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, as if that would somehow undo the fact that King—her neighbour King—had just seen that.

Her mind raced. Maybe he hadn’t actually looked at it yet? Maybe he’d just seen the notification and ignored it? But no, knowing him, he definitely opened it. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

Okay. Breathe. Fix this. Damage control.

Fingers shaking, she quickly typed out a message:

"OH MY GOD. King, that was NOT for you. I am SO sorry. Please just pretend you never saw that. Or delete it. Or—oh my god, this is humiliating."

She hesitated for half a second before sending it, then groaned, flopping back onto her bed and covering her face with both hands. Of all the people…

truth be told king had always had a thing for her. did he do anything about it? oh, absolutely not. he was the first one to be informed of her useless and irritating male partners she kept and yet he never tossed his hat in the ring. he'd made jokes about it because they had this thing between them, a sort of tension if you will that couldn't entirely be pin pointed. he liked it that way, ad he enjoyed being the one person to wind her up. on this evening in particular he was just about to text her as her light was still on quite early. they'd been neighbours long enough he could catch the glow in the corner of his eye even where he was sprawled out on his bed. it wasn't until his phone pinged and he realised it was her, he was a little surprised. could she read his mind? not really thinking anything of it he clicked on the picture half asleep before he realised the extend of what was on his screen. well. his evening took an interesting turn. @littledaydreamers

"Of course, it isn't," Nadia replied, rolling her eyes. "I'd be pretty crap at my job if it was." She held her hand up, admiring the crimson red staining it. "Pretty, isn't it? There's no other red quite like the colour of blood."

open to anyone! muse: amar 'ozzy' oza, wanderer / musician. age 29-32.

"is that your blood?"

Brooke placed her book down as she heard the knock on the door. It was late, even for her. Working as an escort meant she had many callers at all kinds of ungodly hours, but 4 a.m. was unusual, which meant it could only be one person: Max.

Walking to the door, Brooke looked through the peephole to confirm her suspicions. She caught a glimpse of his steel-blue eyes fixed upon the door as if he could see through it. Max never telephoned or sent messages before arriving. They had an unspoken agreement that he could come whenever his need to unwind consumed him. Tonight, the need was evidently strong. Pulling the door open, she noticed the scratch on his cheek and blood on his tie. "Christ, what happened to you?" She asked as she stepped aside to let him in.

Open Starter

Max Tudor - 31, bisexual, enforcer

Open to mutuals and non-mutuals

Connection Ideas - Ex; friend/FWB; affair; escort; hookup; fellow criminal; rival gang member; cop/lawyer

++

The distinctive sound of Max’s Chelsea boots against the hardwood floor signalled his presence before knocking on the apartment door. The late hour didn’t matter to him. As a veteran criminal, he split his time between orchestrating robberies and enforcing the will of his bosses. Therefore, he rarely kept office hours. It wasn’t the first time he’d visited them at such an ungodly time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last either. 

After three sharp knocks, Max waited. If they looked through the peephole, they’d see him standing firmly in his three-piece suit and overcoat, eyes fixated on the door. Max never texted or called before coming over. They had an understanding he could arrive whenever he needed to unwind. Tonight, such a principle stood stronger than ever, considering the bruising on his knuckles, the scratch on his cheek and the specks of blood on his tie. 

"No, of course we aren't. I'm mortified that you've even brought it up. Now I'm going to need to sell my house, move country and find a cave to live the rest of my days alone." The blonde joked, a red hue spreading warmth across her cheeks. "Just some new guy I met at a club if you must know."

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . open starter: to all ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

♡ muse: andres ortiz. early-twenties.  ♡ plot: y/m accidentally sent andres their n*des, days later he's bringing it up

"are we really not going to talk about it?" brows quirks as light chuckles falls from lips. leaning in closely towards the other, "it definitely wasn't meant for me, who was it for?"

Ruby held a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back the laughter. "Why did you even leave the house in just a towel? One gust of wind, and you're in trouble." A snort of laughter escaped her mouth, bursting through her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh, but come on, you're making it too easy." The brunette replied, trying to focus on how funny the situation was rather than let her eyes linger on his naked torso for too long.

open  to  fems  &  mascs connection:  crush,  exes,  (best) friends,  gf/bf,  basically everything but no strangers please.

❝Obviously  I  locked  myself  out.❞  Bryce  rolled  his  dark  eyes  and  gestured  at  his  half-naked  body,  covered  only  by  a  towel  around  his  hips.  At  the  same  time,  his  dark  hair  was  still  soaking  wet.  ❝I'd  appreciate  it  if  you  didn't  laugh,  but  help  me  instead,  it's  not  very  warm.❞

"Well, you certainly made an impression," Isabelle stated, a wry smile playing on her lips as the male took a seat next to her. "Not many people would bother to step in like that." She couldn't help but admire his chivalry. "I appreciate it, though. It's not always easy being a lone woman in a place like this."

The brunette let her eyes rake over the male as she took a sip of her drink. "So, you want casual conversation, huh? Let's see. What's a six-foot-something guy like you doing in a place like this? You don't exactly fit the 'pick-up-artist' stereotype." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, gauging his reaction. "And, you're right, security should have done something sooner. But, it takes an actual fight for them to even bother to pay attention." Isabella replied, rolling her eyes "You seem like a guy who likes to take charge. Tell me, what kind of 'interesting' conversations do you usually have?"

open to: f connection: friend or stranger at a bar @indiestarter

It'd been a long fucking week. All Wyatt wanted was to have a quiet night with a glass of cheap cold beer, potentially eye fuck a girl or two before dragging his ass back home to ignore his roommate and pass out on the couch while watching old sitcom re-runs. Not too much to ask for in his opinion. Unfortunately, some drunken twathead began nagging at the pretty ladies sitting by the bar basically begging from them to go home with him. None were entertaining him but they all recoiled. Finally, Wyatt grew tired enough to get up - all six foot five inches of him - to push the man out of the bar ... doing security's job for them. When he re-entered, he shook his head at the woman who opened her mouth to thank him. "No need, sweetheart. Just doing what security should've done five drinks ago." Taking residence next to her, he smirked her way. "Pay me back with casual conversation. It's been a while since I've had an interesting one."

"I don't think that's your place to say. And please don't presume to know what my demons are or what they look like."

OPEN TO: any muse 25 + ! MUSE: vance wilder. twenty-nine. callum turner fc. your hometown burn out.

"The difference between us is that you weren't the worst thing that happened to me. But you? You've got your demons and they all look like me."

"Don't take it personally. I'm just used to it being just me," Felix replied, scratching the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He'd always hidden his emotions away from others, and it was weird trying to be open and honest around Arden, even with her gentleness.

"you know i care about you right?" arden says gently to the other with a small sigh that leaves her lips. "you don't have to hide away from me when things get hard." // @littledaydreamers

"And yet here you are still here talking to me," Aiden replied cockily, a smirk tugging at his lips.

.  🕸️ㅤ♡   ˖⠀❛⠀⠀to m &. f   ,

                         w/ jewel   .

                             ‘       i thought i could love anyone   ,                 but you’re          .   .   .     ’                       a cruel   ,                 cold-hearted person   ,                 a mean jerk   ,                 a bully   .                 &. yet   ,                 there was that attraction   ,                 that pull towards them       —       it was intense   ,                 almost impossible to resist   .                 they were the kind of person that made her heart go pitter pat   ;                 pitter pat   ,                 even as jewel hated them for taking advantage of her   .                 it was love / hate   ,                 but the hate won out in the end   .       ‘       you’re a JERK   ,                 but a HOT JERK   ,                 i’ll give you that   .       ’

There was a beat of hesitation. "I...I don't know." He muttered, his guilt pressing down on his shoulders.

open to all ( 25+ )

"  be  honest  with  me  for  once .  do  you  love  her  ?   "

Eleanor sighed. She was fed up with men beating on their chests and acting like alpha males. Something told her William Adams would be no different. "It depends. Do you finally have something useful to say?"

open to; f muse; william adams. 34. detective. plot; the captains daughter becomes your new partner but we don't along at ALL

Hell. He was definitely in hell. Or this was some sick joke the universe decided to play on him. He must have done something horrible in a past life. "Can't you just listen to me for five minutes?"

"And what is this difference?" Brooke questioned, raising a brow. "Maybe I'll get you a bouquet of tulips accompanied by a box of dark chocolates as a down payment. But if you want a real thank you, I can teach you how to take care of a goldfish...Low maintenance, I promise!”

open to all! darius landon. forty three. he/him. bisexual. assassin & owner of the good company safe haven bar for criminals. son of the landon crime family.

"i'm not going to stop you from getting yourself killed." darius chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he rolled back onto the heels of his boots. "i will help you live though, if you ask really nicely. i'm partial to tulips, dark chocolate, and i can't take care of pets, but i am sure you'll find something good to thank me."

ofblcssxms​:

CLOSED starter || ft. @littledaydreamers​

Five years later, here he was finally outside those dull grey concrete walls he’d grown to call home. Luckily, he’d managed to get out on good behaviour. Ivan couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for those that had to spend a lifetime behind bars. But alas, even seeing the inside of a cell hadn’t stopped him from making his way straight back to the bratva. They were his family, from a young age he’d been raised them, they had taught him everything he knew and forged him to be the most brutal of all their enforcers. After linking up with his chosen family, Ivan’s next port of call was his lover.. He wondered if they had kept their promise. When the man had initially been captured, he had one phone call, and that one phone call was to them.. His lover had promised that they would wait, that they wouldn’t love again until he returned to them. Ivan knew there would be hell to pay if the promise had been broken. Making his way to the home which he knew to belong to the other, the Russian popped the collar of his leather jacket, licking his lips as he made an attempt at composing himself before knocking. Though, before he had chance to even walk up the driveway, he saw someone leave through the front door, placing a kiss to the lips of his significant other as the left. Fire burned behind the azure hues of the man as his hands balled into fists. “And here I thought promises were not so difficult to keep.” The man spoke out, the Russian twang to his accent evident through the anger in his words as well as the raised volume at which he spoke.

It had been five years. Five long years. She wasn’t even the one that had received the prison sentence, but it felt like it. After all, she’d lost the person she loved. Her life felt like it had been paused as she waited for him to return, yet somehow she had to carry on. Natalie had promised Ivan that she would wait for him, and she had meant it, but five years was a long time. She hadn’t meant for anything to happen. It was just two friends going for a few drinks or well, that’s all it was meant to be. The next thing she knew, she woke up in bed next to him. Natalie wanted to regret it but she didn’t. She’d been faithful and waited for nearly four years. She felt bad for cheating on Ivan, yet at the same time it didn’t seem fair that she had to wait five whole years for a man that continuedly picked a dangerous life style over her. Nothing would change when he got released, if he even got released. And so she had chosen herself for once. She owed it to herself to see where things went with Lucas. Yet, somehow, she couldn’t help the shock and the wave of emotions hit her as she heard Ivan’s voice. Gently pushing Lucas aside, she looked down the driveway, not quite believing her own ears. She looked at Ivan, mouth agape, not really knowing what to say. Natalie turned back to Lucas and told him to get back into the house. She could already hear the venom in Ivan’s voice and the last thing she wanted was him hurting Lucas. “Five years Ivan, it’s been five years.” 

Maxie’s Cosmic Card Cha-Cha: A Dance with Destiny at the Inferno.

open starter @ Inferno poker table. // 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓.

Maxie,   Maxie,   Maxie!   The   wild   card   in   a   world   of   face-down   fates!   Dealer   of   the   pokery-pokers,   master   of   the   shuffly-shuffles,   their   hands   move   faster   than   a   hiccup   in   a   hurricane.   Cards   slip-slide   through   the   air,   zipping   past   like   fireflies   caught   in   a   caffeine   rush,   floating   down   with   all   the   grace   of   falling   stars.   The   table’s   alive,   humming   with   neon   energy,   every   chip   a   heartbeat,   every   shuffle   a   breath.   And   Maxie?   Maxie’s   the   conductor   of   this   strange   little   symphony,   making   it   sing   with   a   flick-flick-flick   of   their   wrist.

“Bluff-bluff-blufferoo!   Who’s   ready   for   a   dance   with   Lady   Luck?   Or   is   it   Sir   Chance   tonight?   Ooooh,   mysterious-mysterious!”   Maxie’s   voice   is   a   song,   a   giggle,   a   riddle,   a   gust   of   wind   through   the   crowded   Inferno.   The   players   lean   in,   eyes   wide,   hands   twitchy.   They’re   caught,   caught   in   Maxie’s   gravitational   pull,   unsure   if   they’re   dreaming   or   diving   into   some   intergalactic   rabbit   hole.   Maxie’s   grin   stretches   wide—wider!—as   they   deal   the   cards   with   the   precision   of   a   juggler   tossing   planets.

"Two   for   you,   three   for   the   moon,   and   one   for   the   pocket   of   fate!"   Maxie’s   fingers   flutter   over   the   deck,   sending   it   spinning   and   spiraling   like   a   galaxy   of   its   own,   each   card   a   tiny   universe   waiting   to   unfold.   They   laugh—bright   and   bubbly,   like   soda   fizz   tickling   the   air—and   the   chips   clatter   down   like   raindrops   in   a   rhythm   only   Maxie   can   hear.

"Raise,   fold,   or   dance   with   destiny!   The   choice   is   yours!"   Maxie   sings,   eyes   sparkling   with   cosmic   mischief.   The   table’s   a   stage,   the   cards   their   script,   and   Maxie’s   the   playwright   who   never   tells   you   how   the   story   ends.   Bluff-bluff-bluff!   They   know   your   secrets   before   you   do,   every   twitch,   every   blink,   logged   in   the   starry   skies   of   their   mind.   Maxie   is   chaos   wrapped   in   charm,   a   joker   who   never   takes   things   too   seriously,   but   always   knows   where   the   jokes   land.

And   as   the   cards   fall—oh,   they   always   fall   just   so—Maxie   winks,   a   sly,   knowing   wink   and   says:   "In   this   game   of   chance   and   choice,   only   the   brave   survive…   or   the   lucky-lucky-lucksters!"

he'd always longed for a fresh start in life especially after the day he'd been turned. with having no longer anymore contact with his family being much too afraid to get back into contact with them after what had happened wanting to save them from the monster he had become against his own will and after quite sometime of living in the shadow he'd only now step out and regain back the life he used to live with one way of doing that within his own mind was to finally get a place of his own and start attending classes again and yeah ! sure the current place he was living at was not the very best , but it was still best he could afford at this time in his young life while still attending the nearby college and a working a part time job on the weekends he still obviously wanted to make the best out of an already bad situation for him. and plus it wasn't like any really exciting happened around there anyways which was a good thing for him in this case valuing more than anything his own peace & quiet that was until he heard the loud cluttering of glass right outside when he was studying one day rushing outside to see what had happened only to find a beautiful girl having dropped their things going over to help them. “ oh ! miss are you ok ? do you need any HELP with those boxes ? ” he asked flashing a rather toothy grin at them.

open to: anyone! ch: sailor kwog. ( pinterest in source ) plot: sailor just moved in to your muses apartment building. while carrying things to her apartment, she drops her large box of crystals and your muse is like ??? crystals??????

"GOD DAMN IT!" Sailor shouts in the stairway, crystals now rolling down a few steps onto the floor and hitting the wall. A loud billow of frustrated air comes from deep in her chest. Some of them had shattered into a few splinters, others had cracked in half. The dark dressed girl sits down on a stair, completely defeated hearing footsteps coming towards the stairwell.

              ☽                𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃     𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃                ☾ @eternityfcund

            𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒     𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍     𝐎𝐅     𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓     𝐓𝐎     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇     𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖,     𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇     𝐀     𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐃.     He     rolled     his     plated     shoulder,     feeling     the     muscles     burn     with     each     movement.     Retrieving     a     scroll     from     a     pouch     connected     to     his     armor,     he     unfurled     the     scroll     to     reveal     a     map     of     the    STARS.     Coal     eyes     turned     skyward,     eyeing     the     silver     orbs     that     danced     across     a     sea     of     ink.     All     the     scrolls     he     had     read     had     to     have     some     merit     to     them,     right?     He     was     going     to     be     the     one     to     find     the     lost     CITY     OF     NIGHT,     he     was     going     to     save     his     tribe.     The     night     dragon     was     distracted,     blind     to     the     arrival     of     another     nearby.

                        ☽                𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋                ☾ @rathalascendant

            𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑     𝐇𝐀𝐃     𝐀     𝐖𝐀𝐘     𝐓𝐎     𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏     𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓     𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊,     𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘     𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐈𝐍     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒,     𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃     𝐎𝐍     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄     𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍.     The     same     despair     that     threatened     to     consume     him,     hiding     like     a     coward     amongst     the     mushroom     trees     and     caves,     away     from     his     failures.     With     Spyro's     disappearance,     it     felt     like     the     red     dragon     had     FAILED     once     more.     He     couldn't     let     the     darkness     control     him     once     more,     he     couldn't     give     up     on     Spyro.     The     ANCESTORS     shall     look     after     him,     keep     him     safe.     In     the     meantime,     Ignitus     did     the     best     he     could     in     the     war     against     the     darkness.

                The     guardian     of     fire     adorned     in     his     old     armor     for     the     first     time     in     ages,    REBORN     anew     after     hours     of     polishing.     Trekking     through     the     swamp,     he     continued     his     search.     SECURITY,     patrolling     due     to     the     temple's     weakened     defenses,     all     lies     he     told     himself,     to     convince     he     was     not     searching     for     the     purple     dragon.     That     was     until     the     snapping     of     a     twig     robbed     the     dragon     from     his     thoughts,     orange     eyes     falling     upon     a     small     creature     who     managed     to     sneak     up     on     the     guardian.     Curious,     he     lowered     his     head     to     get     a     better     look.     〝    It     is     not     safe     out     here,     friend,    〞     

              ☽                𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃                ☾ @lightcreators

            𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇     𝐖𝐀𝐒     𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍     𝐓𝐎     𝐍𝐎𝐓     𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘     𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋     𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇     𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒     -     𝐇𝐄     𝐖𝐀𝐒     𝐀     𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑     𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑     𝐀𝐋𝐋.     So     it     came     to     no     surprise     that     Keith     preferred     to     train     ALONE     during     the     quiet     hours     of     way     past     curfew.     The     only     sounds     to     fill     the     night's     air     was     the     hacking     of     his     sword     against     the     straw     dummies     who     didn't     have     a     chance     against     Keith's     built     up     anger.     〝    Not     GOOD     ENOUGH     for     you     to     claim,     huh?    〞      Sweat     beaded     onto     his     brow     as     he     huffed,     〝    I'll     show     you..    〞     

              ☽                𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘                ☾ @multiicolor

            𝐈𝐓     𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐌𝐔𝐃𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋     𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒     𝐎𝐅     𝐇𝐈𝐒     𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒     𝐓𝐎     𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘     𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐁     𝐇𝐄𝐑     𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒,     𝐇𝐈𝐒     𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄     𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄     𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘     𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆.     He     knew     he     couldn't     force     her     but     the     shock     of     her     REFUSAL     stunned     the     dragonet.     Peril     wanted     to...     stay?     His     shoulder     sunken     as     he     fought     to     figure     out     the     right     words     to     say.     〝    After     EVERYTHING     she     did     to     you...     you're     gonna     stay...?    〞     

                ☽                𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃                ☾ @strcngered

            𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘     𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒     𝐇𝐀𝐃     𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃     𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄     𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑'𝐒     𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓     -     𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐎𝐅     𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒'     𝐖𝐀𝐘     𝐎𝐅     𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄     𝐖𝐀𝐒     𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖     𝐁𝐔𝐓     𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘.     It     was     with     a     heavy     heart     that     Terrador     took     Ignitus'     place     as     LEADER     of     the     guardians.     Yet,     it     had     to     be     done.     Most     of     the     earth     guardian's     time     was     spent     rebuilding     the     dragon     temple.     First     the     grotto,     then     the     training     area,     the     library,     and     lastly     the     guardians'     quarters.     〝    Come     Cynder,    〞      The     earth     dragon     beckoned     her     to     follow     him.     〝    I     have     something     to     SHOW     you.    〞     

who: Cole & @elevcnhops​​

where: by the fire

He knew he had almost drowned and then had a mysterious.. burn? And then Dustin had disappeared. But all Cole could think about was finding ingredients to make S’more’s. He wondered if this was how he coped, by just ignoring the unexplainable. And he wondered if that was really a bad thing, given the circumstances. Cole rummaged around the cabin’s kitchen and, at last, found the stash. Graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows, and even skewers. If he had to bet, he’d put money on these being the forethought of one Nancy Wheeler. With a satisfied hum, Cole shut the door behind him and made a beeline to the fire.

There were a few people scattered throughout the campsite talking and drinking, and Cole’s eyes immediately landed on Adam, who was currently occupied by Melissa. Damage control, maybe. As Cole looked at the fire, he noticed El sitting alone in the dark. Lifting a hand to her, Cole waved. “Hey El,” he raised up the package of graham crackers, “Want to make S’mores?” He sat down on the log near her and began unpacking everything. Handing her a skewer, he slipped a marshmallow on it. “Okay, good to toast it,” he pronounced. As he readied his own, Cole cast her a sidelong glance. “Everything okay?” She seemed... quieter than usual.