#CALL / lonely girl margarita mix for one

[badclown]

Reasons you should ship with Joker:

She will fuck your muse right up. Joker isn't capable of loving a person past the point that one loves an inanimate object, and therefore she will never put them or their needs first. This will cause your muse endless amounts of angst, but only after they experience an intense obsession. Or perhaps they will experience both at the same time. Kinky.

Being with Joker is like being on drugs, I imagine. Everything feels a bit surreal because you're constantly surrounded by weirdos in costumes, performative stage domination, and brightly colored weapons. Your muse will get to react to a myriad of bizarre situations that they otherwise would not encounter. Think of it as an opportunity to explore your character's development.

Surprise violence! Your muse will never know when Joker will straight up murder some poor mook for looking at them the wrong way. Great if your muse has a possessive kink. Or a violence kink. Or both.

Speaking of kinks, Joker will step on your muse. She will literally suspend them from the ceiling in an elaborate rope harness that she tied herself and that probably took like a good ten minutes to do. She'll fuck your muse in public. She'll tell your muse what to do with every expectation that they will do it. Stand up. Turn around. Lean back. Now sit. Good.

All the grape soda your muse can drink, my dude.

[swampbath]

Small starter call. Mutuals only. 100-200 words. Capping at five. Multiple threads always welcome. As usual, expect me to be slow getting these out.

[thcrapist]

Like this for a non-therapy starter with Sadie. If you would like a starter where your character is a patient of Sadie’s, please see my earlier starter call. Starters will be about 150 words. You are completely welcome to indicate in a reply if you would prefer if Sadie already knows them or if you feel more comfortable with our characters meeting for the first time. I’m open to either one.

[hrlnqnzll]

Baby's first starter call !! Mutuals only. 100-200 words. Capping at five, but I might be up for more so don't let that stop you.

[jnprmoone]

I really want to write June things so this is a STARTER CALL. Mutuals only. 100-200 words. Capping at five, but I might be up for more so don't let that stop you.

[veturin]

reverse meme call !!    like this and i will send you a meme !!

[ayatosmoles]

first date

contains: f!reader, alcohol, one very small suggestive comment, fluff!!

word count: ~1.5k

note: ahh it’s finally here!! this is day one of my event saku-vember, and the prompt is first date!! i’m very excited to post all of these, and i hope you guys like them too. i love kiyoomi very very much, and i decided to portray them in this little series the way i think he really is - an absolute dork. this also occurs when reader and kiyoomi are about 24-25! i hope you guys enjoy!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated :)

this is a reupload!! i rewrote most of it to transition over to ao3, so if you think you've seen this before then you definitely have :)

the masterlist for saku-vember can be found here!

You have a strange feeling in your stomach. It’s nerves, you know that much, but they're to a degree you aren’t familiar with. A blind date shouldn’t have you so nervous, but it does anyway. You haven’t gone on a date in so long, maybe over two years at this point, and you don’t remember the proper way to prepare emotionally or even physically. What if he doesn’t even like you?

It’s a blind date set up by your friend, Komori. He promised you that you and his friend would be a good match and it would be fun, since neither of you, according to him, have had any action as of late. Admittedly, you’ve been excited up until the hour before you had to leave for the train station. Komori refused to tell you anything about your date other than the fact that he has curly hair and he’s tall - bare minimum identifiers so you aren’t lost trying to find him at the restaurant. You don't know if there's anything that you have in common, your spine shudders at the humiliating small talk you'll be subjected to. You assume he's associated with volleyball, considering his relation to Komori, but you don't know enough about the sport to support a fluid conversation. You feel like a kid being dragged to a play date with a girl you don't even know, the meeting only being an excuse for the moms to gossip, but without the moms.

You stand outside the restaurant, and the anxiety has somehow merged with what you can only call excitement. Sure, the concern over small talk still stands, but you have half a script printed in your mind that involves a slew of different interests that are sure to catch his attention. There's a healthy mix of worry and anticipation. Even if the date crashes and burns, it’ll be a fun story to tell Komori and your friends.

It’s a Sunday night, so the restaurant isn’t as busy as it would’ve been on Friday or Saturday night. Komori said this was on purpose, since the boy you’re set to meet isn’t a fan of crowds. This makes the search for him easy, and you stride over to the lone table you recognize him at in the corner.

“Are you Kiyoomi?”

You stay a considerable distance away from the table as to not frighten or upset him. He looks up from where he was reading the drink menu and he smiles when he processes what you’ve asked. You read it as relieved, like a weight was lifted off of him. You can say the same for yourself, as his smile is welcoming and warm and you think you can get used to seeing him smile like that, as long as it's at you.

“That depends, are you (y/n)?” you laugh and nod, sliding into the seat opposite his. He’s cute, you note. His small smile remains stretched across his pick cheeks. The mop of curls that sits on the top of his head look soft and well taken care of. You can’t exactly tell how tall he is since he’s sitting, and he has a slight hunch over the table, but the way his knees touch yours under the table signifies to you that he's certainly taller.

Before you and him can continue introductions, your waitress comes around to collect your drink orders. You order some kind of margarita, just the first thing you see that looks good, and Kiyoomi orders a martini. You notice the endearing blush get deeper as he stumbles over his words to the waitress, trying not to say the ridiculous name listed on the menu, and he follows it by adding two waters for you and him.

"'Apple-y Ever After', huh?" you ask, lightly teasing his choice of drink.

"The alcohol is light and it just tastes like juice. I don't really like alcohol."

"Why drink, then? You don't have to just because I am," you ask.

"Eh, after a couple it loosens me up a little and I talk more when I'm tipsy. Without that I think this would be the most boring conversation you've ever had," he laughs at his self deprecation.

"I doubt that." The waitress comes back to deliver your drinks, effectively interrupting your conversation, but she leaves just as quick. Sips are taken before you continue talking any more.

“So how do you know Komori?” he asks, propping his chin on his hand.

“We met in college and we go drinking quite a bit together on the weekends,” you smile as you reminisce on the friendship that you have with Komori. “What about you? He just told me you were a friend from high school.”

“He’s my cousin,” he admits with a chuckle at the surprised look on your face.

“He didn’t tell me that! Why wouldn’t he tell me that?”

“It’s embarrassing, but I asked him to tell you that. I thought it would be embarrassing getting my cousin of all people to find me a date. There's no way anyone would agree to dating some guy's cousin.”

“Oh that’s silly, i don’t care. I’m not really one to talk, I've never been able to find a date on my own.”

“That is kind of weird,” your heart, which was high on excitement, dropped slightly, “considering how pretty you are.”

Your heart flutters right back up from its momentary drop.

His smile is so soft, but you recognize a hint of smugness as your heart pumps harder than you ever thought it could.

“You’re such a liar,” you bury your face into the palms of your hands to try and hide the ridiculous grin that is quickly spreading across your face.

“It’s not like me to lie to such a pretty lady, I'd ruin my chances.”

“Would you stop?!” your stomach hurts with how hard you’re laughing, a laugh filled to the brim with shyness and embarrassment. He’s laughing too, and you decide that it’s a laugh you could spend hundreds of years hearing every single day.

You’re able to face him again after taking a minute to collect yourself and your giggles.

“What about you, huh? Why did you need a blind date?”

“Hmm, well people think I’m weird, I guess.” Despite his admission, he still has a beautiful soft smile that connects his red cheeks, “I come off as a dick sometimes, so I don’t exactly attract a lot of people.”

“You’re so pretty, though. Plus, you're not a dick. I'd almost describe you as a perfect gentleman,” you declare. You don’t know where you found the boldness to do so. You’re almost able to anticipate Kiyoomi’s next words, but your brain doesn't work as fast as his mouth.

“Not as pretty as you. And I try really hard as to not be an ass to pretty girls.”

“You have got to stop, you’re going to boost my ego.”

“That can’t be such a bad thing, mine’s pretty big too,” he comically glances his eyes left and right to look for bystanders, “among other things.”

You and kiyoomi have to be making a scene with how hard you’re laughing, and you can’t help but not care.

Your back and forth conversation continues throughout the date. Your laugh gets bolder as you drink more, and Kiyoomi gets giggly. It’s not something you expect, but it’s adorable. The restaurant has to ask you to leave once they're near closing, and Kiyoomi refuses to let you go home alone. It is pretty late, and neither of you want to part ways quite yet. Even when you get to your building, he insists on taking you to your door.

“Thank you for tonight,” he says and faces you when you finally arrive at your front door.

“No, thank you. I’ve had a wonderful time,” you take his hand after a moment of reluctance. He moves to lace your fingers together.

“Me too. Would you… would you maybe—,” he looks down and his hand gets shaky in yours, “do you want to go out again? Sometime soon?”

You’re almost nervous with how fast your head whips up and down in a nod.

“I would love to.”

“Great. Good.”

He smiles down at you from his towering height, which was much taller than you anticipated, and he squeezes your hand. His other hand comes up to rest right on your warm cheek.

“Can I?”

He’s immediately met with permission from you, and he leans down to connect your lips. It’s awkward and nervous from both parties, but wonderful. Kiyoomi is wonderful, and you’re so excited to be able to kiss him on your next date, and the next date, then the date after that, and maybe the one after that.

He pulls away after a few seconds, only to dip down a few more times to kiss you more and more until he’s satisfied and your dizzy.

“Text me when you’re free,” he slides a small slip of paper into the palm of your free hand and he lets go of the one he has grasping.

He leaves you at your door with just one more kiss.

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.13

Chapter Thirteen: Happiness is a butterfly: An impromptu “bachelorette” leads to more than you expected. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: swearing, brief talk of heartbreak & breakup/s, alcohol consumption, intoxication, angst, and finally a bit of fluff !!

series masterlist

A/N: i can’t believe after this chapter, there is only two left!! from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone that’s been reading / liking / commenting / reblogging - it genuinely means the world to me!

-

Loud chatter mixed with drunken laughter carried through the bar, creating the perfect Saturday night atmosphere. The various raucous discussions were accompanied by old jukebox melodies, fighting a battle of who can make more noise - man or machine.

The space carried a stench of sweat, cigarette smoke and spilled drink. While listening to Penelope’s incoherent ramblings, you took a mental note of needing to throw the clothes you were currently wearing into the wash the second you got home. If you were sober enough to do so, that is.

“Okay, okay-” Emily began, still laughing at whatever it was Penelope had just said. “Personally, I think a more important question is who wants another drink?” She glanced between the group of girls who all lifted their empty glasses into the air, cheering loudly.

It was a pretty unanimous decision to still throw you a bachelorette party. The BAU ladies wanted a night out and you were happy to provide them with an excuse - primarily because the months have quickly passed into May and you figured it was finally time to stop wallowing in self-pity.

Penelope invested in a fake engagement ring; “No-one will know the difference and this way we can get free drinks.”. She also arrived with a bag of typical bachelorette knickknacks from the dollar store, plastic tiaras, and bright pink sashays - a ‘BRIDE’ one for you, ‘MAID OF HONOUR’ for herself, and ‘BRIDESMAID’ for the remaining ladies.

When the night started you honestly felt quite silly celebrating something that was no longer happening. You felt like a fraud. Fooling all of these people into thinking you were happy and about to embark on the best journey of your life, when the reality couldn't have been more different.

You were utterly alone and pathetically in love with someone who, you were convinced, didn't love you back.

Penelope volunteered to help Emily with getting the drinks while Tara took the time to go and freshen up in the bathroom.

“Sooo... are you still thinking about leaving the bureau?” JJ asked, sliding into the now empty spot beside you. She placed an elbow on the table to prop her head up as she waited for you to answer.

Her question caught you off guard. Taking the last sip of your current margarita, you furrowed your brows together. “What? I don’t even... what?” 

JJ didn't answer. Instead, she let out a relieved laugh. “I knew Spence was playing with me. And I told him, I told him there was no way, absolutely no wayyy you would ever leave, or even consider leaving.”

“Spencer?” You probed, hopping to make some sense of what she ways saying.

JJ nodded her head, her hand clearly struggling to hold it up. “He came by, gosh... this was shortly after your breakup with Ethan? And he let lit slip that the surgeon had come by his place and told him you were leaving the BAU...” Her voice faded out when she noticed the perplexed look on your face. Even in her inebriated state she could tell you had no idea Ethan and Spencer ever spoke alone. 

“Shit, did I say something wrong?”

“No, I-I... I don't think so? I’m just... confused.” And as the words escaped your lips, a sudden urge overcame you. If it wasn't for the alcohol cursing through your veins right now, perhaps you would have left it alone. Perhaps the feeling would have passed. Instead, however, you sprung up on your feet and hastily grabbed your handbag.

“I have to go.”

JJ immediately sat up. “Go? Go where?”

But you didn’t want to get into it now. No, you had much more pressing matters at hand - at least your drunken mind thought so. You decided to leave the explaining to Penelope and Tara, who reappeared at the table with Emily and a new set of cocktails. You shot them both a knowing look, and before either of them got a chance to protest, you hurried in the direction of the exit.

The ride to your destination was a blur - partially due to your heavy intoxication, and partially due to the adrenaline you were now experiencing. You weren't even sure how you managed to hail a taxi or how the driver understood the address through your muddled breaths. You were simply glad they did.

Your whole body was shaking. You still weren't entirely sure whether what you were doing was a good idea, but it seemed like there was no other option as JJ’s words rang in your ears - “... the surgeon had come by his place and told him you were leaving the BAU...”. What did she mean by that? When did this conversation even happen? You had so many questions circling your brain, you could only hope they'd get answered once you arrived where you were heading.

Once the car stopped and you paid your fair, you managed to exit the vehicle in one piece and stumble, fairly elegantly, to the front door of the apartment block. The stairs proved to be the real enemy of the night as your legs failed to coordinate with the wooden steps. But once you reached your goal, the struggle of getting here didn't seem as important anymore.

With your hand formed into a lousy fist, you knocked and knocked and knocked until the door swung open.

“When was Ethan here?” You asked, not willing to waste any more time.

Spencer stared at you completely dumbfounded. He blinked, unsure at first whether you were really here or if his mind was playing tricks. Truthfully, he’s imagined this happening many times in the last few months - you finding out the truth behind that night. Especially with the context of your voicemail still lingering in the air every time he saw you.

“Fuck.” You breathed, one hand rockily landing on Spencer’s chest. He instantly reached to grab you and hold safely you up in position. Completely unfazed by your sudden closeness, with your free hand, you brought your knee to your back and you loosened the strap of your heel.

Spencer watched you silently, the overpowering whiff of your perfume mixed with alcohol hitting him like a brick. He quickly took note of the plastic tiara in your hair and the sash wrapped around your rather loose outfit. All that went through his head in that moment was how happy he was you got here safe and sound.

“Do you need me to drive you home? Or, ehm, or call you a cab?” Spencer raised a brow as you regained your wobbly stance, your hand still clinging to his sweatshirt as if it was your only lifeline. Which judging by your... condition, it surely was.

You scoffed, unintentionally blowing your loose strands of your hair away from your face. “Don’t be a jerk, don’t call me a taxi.”

The handsome doctor smirked. “A jerk?”

You nodded. “And do not think for a ss-second, you’re getting away with answering my question.”

“I had a feeling you would say that.”

Spencer carefully led you inside the confide of his apartment. With one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, he closed the door behind and guided you toward the couch. You plopped down with a gentle bounce and he couldn't help but chuckle.

“Let me get you some water.” He offered, but you grabbed his arm and using all of the strength you could muster, you pulled him down next to you.

“Answer my question first.” You mumbled while placing your hands on his cheeks and gaping into his hazel eyes. Gosh, he had such pretty eyes.

Spencer swallowed before licking his lips. Your proximity should be making him nervous, but he felt nothing of the sort. Instead, he found himself shuffling in closer.

“Please, Spencer... I need to know.” The plea was gratuitous because deep down you already knew the answer. You just needed him to confirm your suspicions.

As the tears started to form in your eyes, the brunette doctor sighed deeply. Now was his only chance to set the record straight. He might not get another one, in fact he knew if he let you leave tonight without telling you what really happened he'd lose you permanently. Even as a friend.

Now or never, he thought, then proceed to explain.

And you listened. You listened patiently and attentively, letting the waterfall of tears escape and trail mascara down your face. His words were slowly sobering you up. Everything was starting to become clear once again.

Spencer always loved you. He never stopped loving you. He never wanted to end things, he simply did what he thought was the right thing to do. The right thing for you because your happiness was more important to him than his own. He still loved you. He loved you.

By the time Spencer was finished, the alcohol had completely faded from your system. Your arms instantly draped around his neck, and you fell into his comforting embrace. Attaching yourself like a magnet. His hand landed at the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Basking in your warmth. He whispered apologies into your ear, repeating over and over again that he will never let you go again.

You believed him.

When you finally pulled away, the tears had stopped falling. Using his thumb, Spencer gently wiped the lone droplets that remained on your face. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, so many things he wanted to do with you, but at least now he knew he didn't have to rush. The chase was over.

His fingertips traced along your jawline before settling on your chin. The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, because in this moment you were the only people to exist. The only people to matter.

“Can I kiss you?”

A smile circled your features. “As if you have to ask.”

His mouth brushed against yours with tenderness and care. You melted into him completely, glad he was taking his time because the first touch of his lips on your sent a jolt down your spine. One hand slid from your chin up your cheek, cupping your face, while his other hand graciously moved up and down your arm.

Your lips parted from shocking overwhelming sensation in your body. You hadn't realised just how much you missed his touch, not until his hand traveled from your arm to your neck. His fingertips brushing across, not quite landing in any particular place, as his tongue eagerly slid into your mouth.

Conveyed in his kiss were over a million loving thoughts and conversations previously left unspoken. The pent up tension, built up over the occurrences of these last few months, suddenly exploded. In the moment, in this kiss, you were both your pure selves.

He was yours, and you were his.

Forever.

Do you want me or do you not? I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another

-

A/N: as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway, @chipot-lol​

tags not working: @radtwinkie

[detectivedreameater]

Margarita Monday || Camille and Marley

TIMING: Mid October PARTIES: @carrionxcamille and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Camille comes over to Marley’s for margaritas but ends up sharing a little more than drinks. CONTENT: Alcohol

Relaxing just...wasn’t something Marley really did. Ever. Sure, she took time off and had nights off, but just doing something to do it for, well, fun? Was strange. Having another woman over and not having intentions to sleep with her was also very strange for Marley. But, here she was, setting out ingredients to teach someone how to make margaritas the right way, just to...do it. No ulterior motive, no reason other than to just be normal. Readjusting herself, Marley set out the ingredients-- Dragones tequila, triple sec, cognac, lime juice, and a little bit of simple syrup. Oh, and ice. Marley had had to go to the store and actually buy a bag of ice, considering the only fridge she had was a small drink fridge, and it didn’t make ice. Was that weird or suspicious? Did she care? If this Camille was anything other than what she said she was, Marley could easily get away or fear  gaze her. She was in no trouble here. Still, she jumped a little when there was a knock on the door. She looked over, straightened herself out, then went over. “Welcome to Casa Del Marley,” she said in a cheesy tone, even if she did know proper Spanish. “It’s Margarita Monday today, so please come in and make yourself at home.” 

Right, this was good. Meeting people, getting out of the house, making connections. Camille was making progress, and it sure was better than spending another tuesday night parked in front of the tv barely focusing on trashy reality shows. She needed more friends, and margaritas certainly seemed like a good way to curb any first meeting awkwardness, even if it was a little college to get drunk on a weekday. Whatever, it’s not like running the park was hard. This would be good for her. This wasn’t her threadbare allyship with Regan, and she couldn’t rely solely on Cece for company either. The greeting at the door made her laugh a little as she stepped in, toeing her boots off by the door, “thanks for having me, I needed an excuse to get out the house.” And an excuse to have a drink a little stronger than a glass of wine, honestly. “You earn points already for the alliteration.” She grins, “teach me your ways, margarita master.” 

Marley moved around to the kitchen quickly once Camille was inside, trying not to let the strange feeling in her stomach take too much hold on her. “Yeah, sure,” she said, setting out two glasses and the mixer. “Anything to have an excuse to make margaritas, honestly.” She gave an awkward smile. “Not that I need one, but, you know.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to the ingredients she’d laid out. “Well, first of all, you need the right ingredients. None of that cheap shit, okay?” she pointed at the tequila. “This is the best kind, hands down. People might try and tell you Cuervo or Patron is good enough, but they’re wrong,” she tapped on it, “plus, my girlfriend would gut me if I said anything otherwise.” 

It was a long time since Camille had tried to make friends, honestly. With Jace the way he had been she didn’t want people around at the house and eventually being lonely was just easier than trying to make yet another excuse for why the girls couldn’t meet her husband or see her home. But Marley had offered to have her over, she wanted the company too. Of course, Camille couldn’t really afford high shelf tequila right now, but they’d- unsurprisingly- had a well stocked liquor cabinet at home, and she did one day plan to have a set up like it again. “Right.” She nods sagely, laughing a little, “honestly I can’t drink Cuervo anymore anyway, it just tastes too much like terrible college decisions.” She grins, “does your girlfriend work for the company or is she just a big believer in high shelf tequila?”

“As it should,” Marley said, scrunching her nose. “Cuervo is for college frat kids who want to get drunk fast. You need a nice fine tequila to truly appreciate the art of the margarita.” She cleared her throat, trying to move past the awkward feeling in her throat, even if she’d said the word first. “She’s a lady of fine taste, what can I say?” grinned before sweeping her hand to the next ingredient. “Now, some people might also try and tell you that you can use sweet and sour mix. It’s cheap, it’s faster-- blah, blah. But they’re wrong. You gotta do it yourself if you want the best flavor. I use lime juice, salt and simple syrup. 2 parts lime juice, half part syrup. Pinch of salt,” she explained, finding talking about alcohol was much easier than talking about Anita being her girlfriend and what she liked. “Lastly, my special secret ingredients,” she moved down the line again, “triple sec and cognac. Add to taste, of course, but I usually do a shot of each. Really brings out the other flavors. You can add a little orange juice as a spritz sometimes, too, if you’re feeling citrusy. But, yeah--” she nodded to herself as if to congratulate herself on a job well done. “That’s all there is to it. So, shall we try and make some?”

College frat kids who want to get drunk fast? Camille almost winces. That had sure been Jace. Perhaps this whole thing really was her own fault, in a roundabout way. How had she not seen the signs of it when they were younger? Sure everyone liked to get messed up at parties when they were kids, but Jace was always looking for another party to get messed up at. She’d thought- stupidly- it was the social aspect. Jace was a jovial guy, he loved to be around people, that was why he loved parties. Maybe even back then he’d loved drinking more. Uh oh, yeah, she was not going to admit it to Marley but Cam had definitely made a few sweet and sour mix margaritas in her time. It was easier. But then she hadn’t been sure how easy the real method was too-- and honestly it didn’t sound like rocket science. She liked listening to people talk about a passion of theirs, and Marley clearly had this down to a T, so seeing her in her comfort zone made Camille a little more relaxed too, and they weren’t even drinking yet. “So you go pretty sour then? That’s good. I make cosmos sometimes and I always add more lime juice than recipes say too, I just like them sour.” She nods, “doesn’t sound like I’d be able to fuck it up too badly,” Cam grins and picks up one of the glasses, “assuming you start with tequila?”

“Oh yeah,” Marley said, nodding, “the more sour, the better. What can I say? I’m a sour woman.” She stacked two glasses on the counter in front of them and motioned to the ingredients. “It really is hard to fuck up a margarita, it’s more about getting the right proportions so that you can enjoy all the flavors at once. And, of course, making sure you have good tequila,” tapped the bottle again, “yeah, sure. Start with that, I’ll uh-- supervise,” she said stepping back and letting Camille approach. This was still...strange and knew for her, but she was learning that it was nothing to be awkward about. Maybe this was just how normal people interacted. Maybe if she kept trying, she’d actually get used to it one day. She gave a smirk. “Go on, then,” she motioned, “don’t fuck it up.”

Camille laughed a little- actually, she’d been called a sourpuss once, by an older guy at a club trying to grind on her. The memory amused her to this day. Maybe they were both a little sour, but she didn’t think that was a bad thing. “I’m the same with wine, I never like it overly sweet.” She says, stepping up to the counter to start by pouring some tequila in one of the glasses- hey, she was still young enough at heart to know roughly how to pour out a shot. “I’ve known people to use triple sec before, but I’ve never come across cognac. Hey, I’ll trust the master though.” Cam shrugs, adding in plenty of lime juice and salt before pouring some syrup into a measure and adding that too. “I will admit to hating it when people put stuff on the rim of a glass though, salt or sugar or whatever. I’ve never gotten that.” She was sure that too was something about flavor, but the grains just irritated her mouth. Camille knew she liked triple sec, so after a full shot of that she measured out a little less cognac- she’d never been a huge fan- and added that too. “Looks like I managed to avoid total disaster… Or I didn’t make a mess at least.” Obsessively watching bartenders in college to make sure they didn’t mess with her drink had paid off, it seemed. She raised the glass, “cheers.” And took a sip. “Wow. Okay, you’re right. I’m adding cognac to every margarita I make from now on. Damn, that’s good. I don’t even like brandy.” 

Marley watched Camille fill up her drink, talking herself through the process. “Cognac just gives it a little extra bite, you know?” she shrugged, “I’m not a big fan of the alcohol on its own, but the slightest touch really does spruce up the most basic cocktail.” Mostly, she didn’t like it because it wasn’t an alcohol she could consume copious amounts of in a small amount of time in order to get drunker quicker. But she didn’t need to say that outloud. “Ah, see! You’re amazing at it already,” she said, leaning back against the counter. From around the corner of the kitchen table came JD, sniffing the air and the new scent in the house. Marley observed him for a moment, before realizing that his horns really weren't anything that normal people would expect on a hare. Or, really even, expect a hare. She went forward to shoo him away, but he scampered under the table and around into the kitchen, right up to Camille. “Uhh, he’s got-- a mutation,” she said, staring wide eyed.

It was all going well and everything was very normal, which Camille was pretty pleased about because since waking up in town she kept getting hit across the face with weirdness. Killer mimes and vampire neighbors and an eyeball where the goddamn sun should be. It was nice to kick back with a new friend and have a drink, and talk about normal things like cognac. She’d been into cocktail making for a while when she was younger, but then Jace’s problem had gotten worse and keeping high percentage alcohol in the house just… Didn’t seem smart. She took another sip and tried not to think about that. “Well it helps to have a good teacher.” Camille laughed, only the slightest of a bitter edge to the sound, “I would know, I used to be a- ah!” 

Camille startled when the creature scurried up to her, pressing her body back into the kitchen counter. “Holy hell.” It was, in essence, a big weird looking rabbit. Which would probably not have garnered much of a reaction if it were not for the horns. Horns! Every day something new and totally out of left field. Is it the weirdest thing she’s seen? Well… There were eyeballs coming out of her taps at one point, that was probably weirder. But this-- Camille didn’t quite see how a mutation could give a rabbit horns. Which meant this was the supernatural kind of weird, which meant Marley knew about the supernatural kind of weird. “...Right.” She takes another sip of her drink and sighs, weighing the pros and cons. Camille could pretend to believe her, but there would be an awkward air over the rest of the night. She had enough secrets already. “Y’know, you don’t have to… I- look, here’s the thing, I’m not an expert. Like, I don’t know a lot about it all but I do know that there’s stuff in this town that is…” She waves a hand vaguely in the air, trying to find a good word for it. “Let me put it this way, when I lived in the motel my neighbors were vampires. So, don’t bullshit me. That’s not a normal rabbit.” 

Marley watched Camille closely, as she started down at JD. She could see the cogs turning in her head. Most people who wanted to remain ignorant would wave this away and be happy to accept the “mutation” explanation-- but when Camille didn’t, Marley felt herself slowly warming up to the idea that maybe she wasn’t half bad. She came over around the counter and picked up the large hare, hoisting him onto one arm and holding him so his legs dangled below her arm. He sniffed the air, wriggled once, then settled in. “You’re neighbors were vampires? Gross,” she muttered, scrunching her nose, “vampires are so broody and angsty. Oh, my life is so tragic,’ she sighed, putting a hand to her forehead, “I’m doomed to eternal life and I must feed on the blood of innocents! Or...whatever.” She remembered the last vampire she’d known, and how much his disposition to drink blood tortured him. Vampires, for all their monstrosity, could be so human sometimes. “Glad you got out of there, then,” she replied, feeling the awkwardness hang in the air a bit. She cleared her throat. “He uh--” glanced down at JD, “--he’s a Jackalope. Supernatural hare, basically. But I swear he’s nice! Usually.” 

Camille wasn’t going to wander around the whole town with her eyes closed. She was in White Crest because she’d died. If she wanted answers about what the hell had happened to her and didn’t want those answers to totally freak her out it would probably be a good idea to embrace everything else weird and wacky going on in town. It was just so… Exhausting. Nothing was normal. She couldn’t even make a new friend and drink margaritas without some not rabbit thing becoming part of the evening. Maybe she just had to get used to it.

It was almost comical the way Marley handled the thing, and how quickly it settled into her arms like it’d been there a dozen times before. It probably had, she seemed to be keeping it like a domestic pet. That was almost… Sweet. And her vampire impression did make Cam laugh. “They were broody!” She agreed, “those walls were thin, I could hear them complaining. Didn’t stop the parade of pretty young girls always going in and out of their room though, so they can’t have felt too put out.” Once she’d found out what they were Cam had started watching for those girls- some of them went back again and again, but what mattered to her was making sure they walked back out. She nods, “yeah. Cece really did me a favor.” Oh how much she had come to rely on the kindness of strangers as of late, it was new. “He doesn’t seem not nice. He just startled me. I’m still getting used to all this stuff, and I don’t really feel like getting into why I’m here in the first place but it.. Yeah, it’s part of my life now, so.” Camille shrugs, staring at the jackalope… She’d heard of them, but it hadn’t occurred to her that they might really exist in this new world. “He’s almost cute. Does he have a name?”

“All vampires are,” Marley said with a little roll of her eyes. “They’re pretty dramatic.“ At least, all the vampire she’d met were like that-- she felt like it almost came with the territory, just like how most mara liked the strange and horrific. Most of them even shared Marley’s love for insects, because unlike most mammals, they didn’t run away scared. “Oh, you know Cece? Like Cece Bishop, Cece? I work with her sometimes.” And somehow knowing Camille knew Cece made Marley all the more relieved. At least she didn’t have to skirt around things anymore. “He’s very nice, usually. Just spooks easy, which is funny, considering--” she paused, frowned, “he’s pretty scary looking.” Marley rustled her arms, cinching her brows. “Almost cute? He’s extremely cute, actually. I mean, lookit his face!” she exclaimed, holding him up. JD responded by thumping his legs against her and leaping out of her arms and over to the couch. “Well...I think he’s cute,” she muttered, looking back over at Camille. “His name’s JD. Short for Jack Daniels.” A pause. “I swear I’m not an alcoholic, though.”

Sometimes Camille worried she was taking all of this too well. But then she remembered her first few months here, the icy cold that had settled over her the second she realized she was supposed to be dead, sitting in that motel room and staring at the wall for god knew how many days without being able to move. Trying to accept it all had practically rendered her catatonic, and she was still struggling, but Camille was no idiot. Even with all the additions the world was still the world and she was still a living thing that needed to make money and survive and carry on.

“I haven’t actually met any vampires, so I couldn’t speak for all of them.” Cam shrugs, and then her eyes widen, “at least… I don’t think I have. I suppose that’s rather the point.” Wow, maybe she had met vampires. Marley could be one for all she knew. It was probably rude to ask. “Yeah, it’s her I live with. We met out at Dell’s Tavern one night and when she found out I was staying at that creepy motel she insisted I stay with her.” She nods, “right, it makes sense that you’d know her too.” The morgue and the police department probably worked closely. They’d probably done that in Boston, when she’d died. Camille chuckled a little at the contradictions, how Marley thought something could look scary and cute at the same time. Though she managed not to flinch when it- JD- was brought closer to her face. He had regular rabbit eyes, all big and innocent and shiny. She did jump when the beast moved suddenly though, clutching one hand to her heart and laughing despite herself. “He can leap like a rabbit, huh? Is he- do you just keep him, like, as a pet?” Cam smiled, “I like JD. When I was in college my roommate had a hamster and we called it Khalua.” 

“Count yourself lucky, then,” Marley said with a small chuckle. “Oh, trust me-- you’d know.” It was a strange thing, to find someone so...okay with all this weirdness. Even Erin had been a little freaked out by everything at first, but maybe Camille had just skipped past it all already. Or she just hadn’t seen the freak out and was getting the after effects. She shrugged. “Yeah, Cece’s like that.” She didn’t know Cece all that well, but from what she could gather, the woman liked to feel useful and help others. And was a bit nosey. “He’s a hare, actually. Common mistake. Hares are bigger than rabbits.” She scratched her chin. “I mean, yes? He’s pretty harmless. He mostly just follows me around and chews on things. Animals don’t normally like me, so it’s kinda nice to have one around that, you know, does.” A chuckle. “Khalua, ha. That’s a good name. I’m gonna steal that if I ever get another pet. I was considering getting another tarantula, they’re pretty low maintenance.” She gave a short pause, before prodding her next question. “So...how do you know about all this stuff?”

“Oh, would I? Well that’s… Reassuring, I suppose.” The only thing that’d tipped Camille off about her neighbors at the motel was how loudly they talked about it. Perhaps they’d been trying to scare her. Honestly at the time they’d been the least of her worries, and she’d even briefly wondered if any attempts to kill her would actually work. Jury was still kind of out on that one, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to ask anyone to try it and find out. 

Camille nodded, “right, a hare.” The difference wasn’t enough to bother her, but she’d try and remember it. “Ah, I hear most animals are a little bit destructive like that.” She chuckled, it was one of the things that had stopped her from getting a dog with Jace, being too precious about her house. “He was a real hit whenever we had dorm parties, that’s for sure. Even the dean thought he was too cute to tell us off.” The idea of a spider as a pet was… Really not Camille’s cup of tea, but if Marley already had a weird supernatural hare it probably wouldn’t seem so odd to her.

Right. How did she know about all this? Marley was a cop, it probably wasn’t smart to tell her too much about how she didn’t have a legal identity and there was a man in prison for her murder. But… Well, Marley was a cop with a jackalope, and wouldn’t it be a good idea to have as many useful people helping her figure this out as possible? If Marley had a strong enough link to the supernatural stuff, maybe she’d have some information no one else did yet. “Well…” Camille sipped her drink, tapping her fingers against the side of the glass. “How do you know about this stuff?”

.Marley ruffled her nose. “Hey, I asked you first,” she pointed out, frowning. It was strange to not feel affronted by the question, however, and she had to take a minute to pause and decide if that really was one she wanted to answer. A few months ago it would have been a solid and definite no, but now that things had changed in Marley’s life, she wasn’t sure anymore. She waffled on it for a moment, confused by her own indecision. “I’m a cop in White Crest,” she finally answered with a shrug, “how could I not know about this stuff? I know most of the precinct will like to make you believe everyone around there has their head in the sand, but you can’t judge us all because of that.” Even if Marley did. She knew most of the other cops didn’t believe in any of this shit. “I also sort of grew up with this kinda stuff.”

She leaned back against the counter again. “Okay, so now that I played my cards, are you gonna tell me yours?” she asked, nodding at her. “You seem pretty normal, so what could’ve happened to you to clue you in to all this shit?”

Camille lounged back against the counter, tapping her nails against the almost empty glass in her hand and waiting. Whatever Marley had to say she was willing to bet the other woman had been around this kind of stuff a lot longer than she had. The reasoning of being a cop was sound enough, she was willing to bet they all saw some weird stuff. But Regan worked in the morgue and had wings and still managed to be disbelieving of the whole thing. Growing up around it, though, that made Camille relax just a little. 

She set the glass down to pull back the sleeve of her shirt and show the sigil on the back of her hand. “I died a while ago.” Camille said, trying to sound more nonchalant about the whole thing then she felt. “Woke up in White Crest earlier this year. With this thing-” She tapped a finger against the mark- “which I did not have in my first life. A lady told me it means I was resurrected and the mark keeps my soul in my body, or something.” Camille tugged her sleeve back down. “So I am pretty normal. Or I was, but it’s kind of hard to deny all this stuff when you know there’s an autopsy report with your name on it.” She shrugged, twisting her hands together, “I figure for now this town is the best place for me, while I’m still trying to get it together.” 

Had Marley been drinking something, she would have spit out her drink. Instead, it came up as a cough that felt as if it stuttered and stuck in her throat, and she turned to look at Camille with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say you died? And then-- came back?” That wasn’t really all that uncommon, but Marley had been sure Camille wasn’t a zombie or a vampire-- her tastebuds were too on par. But then she showed Marley the marking on her hand and it clicked-- someone had brought her back to life using necromancy. Marley didn’t know much about it, only that only very powerful spellcasters could do it, and that it was some sort of taboo-- Peter had informed her of this, and reminded her that they were not vessels of death while doing so-- and that Bea had likely also been resurrected. She’d told Marley she’d died after Marley had pestered her about not calling back. 

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s fair,” she answered, scratching the back of her neck. “Normal is-- relative, I guess. Even though you’re, well, you know…” she motioned towards her, “you can still live a normal life.”

Marley’s reaction was… Almost comical. Especially in comparison to others. Nell had been matter of fact, Regan in denial. Marley was much closer to what Camille had expected of people. The tequila probably helped, but she actually didn’t feel all that exhausted by talking about it for once, which was a nice change. Perhaps because she hadn’t gotten into the details of her ex husband and the whole ordeal that had brought about her death. She didn’t want too, it wasn’t like she owed Marley anything. Part of normal was moving on. “It’s kind of a lot to process.” She said, nodding. “So I’m trying to take it easy. Just… Getting out into the world again, y’know? Steady job, making new friends.” Camille shrugged, “not perfect but better than nothing.” 

She smiled,“actually, it makes me feel much safer knowing we actually have cops who understand exactly what is going on in this town, even if you can’t convince the entire squad.” She laughed softly, moving to set her glass down by the sink and pick up her bag. “It’s getting late. I shouldn’t keep you up all night. But we should hang out again, now that I know I don’t have to watch what I say with you.” 

For a dead woman, Camille was pretty casual. Marley didn’t know what that experience was like, but she could understand wanting to make a normal life for yourself. “You really should quit the Cryptid Corner,” she said after a moment, but it was with a sly grin and not a judging one. “I heard that place is haunted.” Marley gave a sheepish shrug. “Well, glad I can help out, then. I’ll certainly do my best to keep this place clean, but White Crest is certainly a...dangerous place. Don’t um-- do anything to get yourself killed again, alright?” She started heading over towards the door with Camille. She wanted to quip about how the night was her time, but she kept her mouth shut for now. She’d already given away too much, and even if Camille had been more forthcoming with all this than she’d originally thought, she still felt exposed in some way. Even though Camille had spilled her entire story, Marley kept hers much closer to her chest. “Uh-- yeah,” she said, confused for a moment. People didn’t often ask to hang out with her again, let alone as just friends. Was this really how the world worked? She furrowed her brow. “Yeah, let’s do this again. Maybe with snacks next time, too.” That’s what people offered, right? She brushed the thought away. “And uh-- thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. You don’t have to worry, either. Your secret’s safe with me.” And if Camille turned on her somehow, it would make for some good blackmail. Not that she wanted that to happen. But old habits die hard.

Camille snorted out a laugh and shook her head, “the closest thing that place has ever gotten to haunted was the one time we had a possessed toilet. A nightmare to deal with but we’ve had nothing since. It’s too lame to haunt.” She nods, “yeah… Yeah I know this place can be a bit wild. Hell, when I woke up here people were being attacked by mimes, so.” It was almost scary how quickly she’d gotten used to it all, but maybe waking up dead could numb you to experiences like that a bit. “Trust me, I don’t have any plans to put myself in harm's way.”

It was true, she certainly wasn’t going to go looking for trouble. She’d even stopped walking around the forest at night, so things were looking up. Another friend who knew her secret, someone else to trust. Camille was sick of being lonely, see, she’d decided this life was going to have friends. “Right. I appreciate it. Enjoy the rest of your night, I’ll see ya.” She gave a cheery little wave before heading out the door, to return to her own home feeling a little more optimistic than the day before.

[skonkania]

— softly

story: open heart

pairing: bryce lahela x mc ( vera onruang )

word count: 1.6k

notes: vera kinda just hates her birthday and just wants to cry all day

summary: didn't mean to get so close and i know that i should probably go.

As she looks in the mirror, Vera does the math in her head. If she spent 26 years in North Carolina then another 2 years working her way to be a resident at Edenbrook; how much time does she have left? It’s a loaded question but she knows that the average human residing in the United States lives upward to 78 years and she’s turning 28 this year.

28 years old, just 50 more birthdays she never wants to celebrate. 50 more years to put her name on this Earth. (Even though she knows there’s a possibility that she’ll develop some life-debilitating disease once she reaches her sixties.) Yet, here she is; wasting another day just to celebrate something she’s come to loathe.

She told Sienna she didn’t want a party with all the seriousness she could muster after a 17-hour shift with only 30 minutes to rest. But the peppy girl must’ve assumed this was some reverse psychology shit or something because Jackie told her to get ready for tonight. She rolled her eyes and went to change out of vomit stained coat.

It’s September 30th and sometimes she wishes her friends weren’t so nice.

There’s too many numbers floating around in her head, too many variables to fill over how this night will inevitably end, and so much more to worry about than just a simple party. Her eyes stare at her lips through the reflection, trying out different grins with a lidded expression. A toothy one seems fine, she decides and leaves the sanctuary of her room.

Her senses are already overwhelmed as she enters the hallway, a thick thump following every step she takes on hardwood floors. Counting how many seconds it takes for her to reach the archway between the hallway and the living room and how many seconds it takes for her to brush past people before she can reach their kitchen island that’s overflowing with unattended drinks. Some of them have names, some of them don’t, but she’ll have to clean them up anyway.

She hasn’t even seen her friends, they baked (more like Sienna did) with 32 candles on it and her name messily scrawled with frosting. It was red velvet, her favorite, but she never had an appetite when it came to this day. She needs a distraction, something pushing back thoughts of home and she doesn’t really feel like tequila will cut it.

Yet, soon enough, a chaste kiss is pressed to her cheek, a smile already blooming onto her features as she’s assured with who it is. Bryce always liked to show up to these things as a showoff and a people person, challenging her to something before he stayed to clean up as an excuse to sleep over. But he’s been busy with Keiki and she’s somehow in charge of making sure the diagnostic team doesn’t shut down because of Ethan’s unmoving morals.

Although, that’s too heavy to speak about, so she starts off with something light. Something to tease him with, something she can distract herself with.

“Leave little Lahela with a sitter?”

“No,” he stops on the other end of the island, concern flashing in his features. “was I supposed to?”

“She’s fifteen, I used just leave pizza rolls and juice out whenever my—” she pauses and tucks her lips under her teeth, it’s not time yet. “my cousins stopped by. We’re not qualified guardians.”

They’re not and it’s why she left home, it’s why she thinks birthdays are lonely even with mountains of bodies crowded in a single room and why red velvet is a good cake flavor but a shitty one for a birthday. She ignores her critiques and focuses back on Bryce, eyes shining as she returns his mischievous grin.

“We’re not, but we are qualified to party.”

“I hate how cheesy you are.”

“You don’t hate anything about me. Anyways, you ready for a Bryce special?” he asks while she watches him pluck out differing types of alcohol. Most noticeably, some peach-colored liquid that she doesn’t even remember purchasing.

Maybe when Sienna went out with Elijah, they like getting stuff that looks pretty. Although it pretty much always tastes like shit.

She snorts at the name, relying on his part to play the narcissist of their relationship. “You mean that awful shit where you put margarita mix, rum, and vodka?”

He pulls a solo cup from the stack and starts mixing flavors that his abomination should be considered something close to a biohazard. He seems unphased at the prospect of mixing of rum and Jackie’s jungle juice. “It’s not awful shit, not when it comes from me.”

“That claim is arguable with everything you do except surgery.”

“Aw, I thought you liked the way my fingers feel.” He moves away from the brown-greenish color starting to form in her drink to wiggle his fingers at her. Taking this as a moment to slide in close as if she’ll fluster under his gaze like some sheltered naive girl. He should know better by now, “You don’t complain during your lunch breaks anyway.”

“Pushing your luck, Lahela.” and she shoves him away with a grin, hands resting on his biceps. “You’re insufferable, completely insufferable.”

“Only with you.”

And he hands her the cup, taking it into her grasp to see the now mauve liquid clash against white colored plastic. It’s disgusting, she knows it will taste bitter against her tongue but she goes through with it. Just to see him smile, bringing him joy just to see her squirm.

She seems to ignore the crowd of bodies bustling around her living room and kitchen, eyes only trailing across his face. He’s perpetually calm with no wrinkles in his forehead from frowning too much or concerning himself with petty matters. At peace with what he does at whatever given time, and sometimes she wishes she could pass some of her burdens onto him.

It’s a cruel thought, but one he’d comply to is she asked. He’d do anything she asked.

“Now, I know you love a good old-fashioned shindig here.” a bit of Bryce’s homemade biochemical disaster spills on her jeans but she doesn’t mind the slightly unpleasant feeling. “But why’d you come?”

There’s a moment where he doesn’t answer, maybe a little unsure of the answer he has prepared. It’s not even a bullshit question where she’ll get unreasonably pissed at him no matter the outcome, she’s just curious of his intentions.

And after the small silence, he answers. “Because I know you, and I know you’d be miserable if I left you alone.”

Hmm, he knows me. Yet, he’s still right about that much despite the cynical tone her inner monologue uses. Taking another sip from her cup and relishing the bitter taste that invades her mouth.

“You didn’t seem like you were in a birthday spirit, even when I came around.”

She shrugs in response, unable to process the aching that comes with this day. A void in her chest she can never tear out, that this day simply feels like something for her to waste rather than commemorate. “I just wanted to stay in my room, maybe even crash at someone else’s place. This day stopped feeling like something to celebrate when I was 13.”

There are far better things to do on September 30th than recognize she’s finally 28. It’s all inconsequential from a objective point of view.

“Is that your birthday wish?” she nods and slouches on the stool, barely noticing how he has grabbed ahold of her palm and has brought it up to his lips. Always so affectionate when he can’t seem to find words to say. “Then let’s go, we can stay in your room until they call us back.”

She doesn’t argue like she usually does, and doesn’t insist on the fact that someone will notice she’s missing from her own party. Instead, she lets Bryce lightly grasp her elbow as he leads her away from the bustle of people having more fun of this night than she ever will. Letting out mumbled apologies to those she inadvertently brushes by but all her thoughts are jumbled together that only created an array of distress.

None of them even speak as they enter the dim hallway that leads to multiple rooms, hers at the far end of the hall. Vera makes no snarky comment as they enter of the bedroom and Bryce is at a loss for smart ass quips once he lays her down at the mattress. Their shoes clatter against hardwood as they nestle against her ivory white comforter, catching each others’ gazes once they settle.

He’s so ethereal bathed in whatever moonlight peeks through her curtains and now she is at a lost for words.

“Hi,” he whispers as she brushes back a lock of stray hair from her eyes.

She cups his cheek, “Hey.”

They break from their little moment, laughing at the intimacy that has spurred on from nothing but simply admiring one another. A grin grows on her features as she inches closer to him and lazily wraps an arm around his waist, he follows after her movement without a second thought. Enraptured, she thinks at first before looking back into his brown eyes filled with an unplaced warmth, I am enraptured with him.

In the comfort of his stare, she’s already forgotten about the party thrown just for her happened just outside her hallways and she laughs. Bursting with unexpected amusement at the whole situation and muttering her next words through a smile. “You’re insufferable. God, completely and utterly insufferable.”

And he returns her grin, some laughs breaking through his serene expression. “So are you.”

She tilts her head up, lightly lifting herself up from the bed just to press her lips to his forehead, chin, left cheek, and then the right cheek. Avoiding everything except his lips until she leans in and feels nothing but tight-lipped grins simply pressing against one another. Unbridled happiness he’s brought on a miserable day, combing through his hair as her head rests against the pillow.

“Guess we have to stick together then.”

[badclown]

MUTUALS ONLY go ahead and slam the like if you're interested in being mains. Being mains means we both have permission to write each other starters at any time (no thread limit) and to refer to each other's muses in our default canon timeline and incorporate them into our continuity. Hitting the like means I'll probably reach out to you to discuss our characters' relationship to each other, etc.

[bobasheebaby]

107 The Good Place Prompts

Eleanor Shellstrop

1 “I just don't think the group thing is for me. I'm better when it's one-one-one and we're both looking at our phones and I don't know the other person and we don't talk.”

2 “The closest thing I could find to herbal tea was a root beer I had them throw in the microwave.”

3 “Whenever anyone tells me a story about their life I always imagine all the people as being super hot. Otherwise, I quickly lose interest. Do you not do that? You can do it for free.”

4 “I'm SO ready to learn, it's like my brain is HORNY!”

5 “What can you possibly say to us that will make up for your actions?” “Pobody's nerfect?”

6 “You don't seem like a ... super genius.”

7 “Ugh, of course your hugs are amazing.”

8 “Oh, so now I'm supposed to be nice and make friends and treat him:her with mutual respect?” “Yeah!” “That's exactly what he/she wants me to do, NAME, wake up!” “That's what everyone wants everyone to do.”

9 “Your friend sounds like he’s/she's one pickle short of a pickle party.”

10 “I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.” “Oh, come on. Everyone knows that's worse.”

11 “I know it sounds crazy, but if it weren’t crazy they wouldn’t call it a ‘leap of faith.’ They would call it a ‘sit … of ... doubting.’”

12 “Buzz off, Bambadjan.”

13 “Where is everyone?” “Who knows? Maybe they finally figured out clam chowder is disgusting, 'cause it's basically a savory latte with bugs in it.”

14 “First of all, throwing sand is an excellent way to put out a vodka fire.” “Why would you even know that?!”

15 “No, NAME, I used to do that. Now I do selfless things without even thinking about it.”

16 “Why don't I ever listen to people when they talk about themselves? No, it's annoying, and I'm right not to.”

17 “Are you going to talk? Or just walk around like a nerd trying to get a personal best on his Fitbit?”

18 “I guess ‘try and enjoy this’ is a better plan than ‘have the anxiety sweats.’’

19 “I’ve only ever said ‘I love you’ to two men my entire life, Stone Cold Steve Austin and a guy in a dark club who I mistook for Stone Cold Steve Austin.”

20 “Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.”

21 “You know I’m trying to say ash-hole instead of ash-hole, right?”

22 “It’s suddenly very important that I get drunk.”

23 “Well fork you, too.”

24 “Holy mother-forking shirtballs.”

25 “‘You’re not better than me’ was my yearbook quote.”

Tahani Al-Jamal

26 “You guys came to say goodbye because you're my friends.” “Well, I suppose some part of me possibly has a sense of casual kinship with you, much as one might be fond of a street cat.”

27 “I would say I outdid myself, but I’m always this good. So I simply did myself.”

28 “NAME, you seem thoughtful. And that concerns me.”

29 “I, NAME, shall do my level best to make every event too much.”

30 “I just want to sit and stare at nothing, and silently scream for the rest of time.”

31 “I made a complete fool of myself tonight. I interrupted your big speech and badly stained my cargo pants, which, I have to admit, are quite comfortable. Oh, God, what’s happened to me? I’m praising off-the-rack separates!”

32 “Who else feels that NAME has ruined every moment of your existence since you arrived?”

33 “Right now I'm just a boy/girl, towering over a boy/girl, asking him/her to admit he/she loves me.”

34 “My whole life, whenever I encountered any obstacles, I would simply say, ‘I would like to speak to a manager.’ But in our relationship, there was no manager. There was no one who could fix this for me except me.”

Chidi Anagonye

35 “I’m just not a ‘new experience’ kind of guy. My comfort zone is basically like, that chair, and honestly? The arms are a little sharp.”

36 “Here’s an idea. What if we don’t worry about whatever comes next?”

37 “Principles aren’t principles when you pick and choose when you’re gonna follow them.”

38 “If this isn’t a test, then it’s something way worse: A choice! That we have to make!”

39 “I am absolutely paralyzed by decision-making.”

40 “I’m going to ... start crying.”

41 “I am pretty good at turning every place I go into my personal hell.”

42 “You know the sound that a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That’s the sound that my brain makes all the time.”

43 “Well, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities: yes and no.”

44 “There's an old Chinese proverb... ‘Lies are like tigers. They are bad.’””That's it?” “I guess it's more poetic in Mandarin.”

45 “I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone."

46 “I am breaking up with you.” “Why?” “I can't ... It's complicated, but it's happening. Ya dumped!”

47 “I do have a stomachache. Why do I always have a stomachache?”

48 “You put the Peeps in the chili pot and eat them both up! You put the Peeps in the chili pot and add the M&Ms. You put the Peeps in the chili pot and it makes it taste bad.”

49 “Are you alright? You didn't sleep at all last night.” “I got a solid eight minutes. Not consecutively, but still. It's fine. You're not even that blurry.”

50 “We can be colleagues. Associates is pushing it. And by even having this conversation, you're becoming my confidante. I can't have that.”

51 “I am absolutely paralyzed by decision making and it is destroying my life.” “Yeah, I sort of got that when you couldn't choose a chair to sit on.” “Well, I didn't want to offend you in case you had a favorite.”

52 “This whole romantic situation is such a mess. I am vexed, NAME. Vexed.”

53 “I need to step outside ... for some air ... and I will not be back for many days.”

54 “I'm sorry, everyone, I just have some worries as well as some concerns that could potentially turn into outright fears. Ah, there they go, they're fears now.”

55 “When I'm really upset, concentrating on a table of contents helps me calm down. It's like a menu, but the food is words.”

56 “I have never been that certain about anything. I once even tried to rent socks. How did I say that that easily?”

57 “You broke the world. It's not a compliment!”

58 “This is fun. It's a fun party. There's no question about it, this is a fun ... situation. Hey! You guys are here! The fun continues, nay, increases!”

Michael

59 “If soulmates do exist, they’re not found. They’re made.”

60 “I’ll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe. Take it sleazy.”

61 “We have no plan. No one’s coming to save us. So ... I’m going to do it.”

62 “It’s a rare occurrence, like a double rainbow. Or like someone on the internet saying, You know what? You’ve convinced me I was wrong.”

63 “Lies are always more convincing when they’re closer to the truth.”

64 “Kissing is gross. You just mash your food holes together. It’s not for that.”

65 “Birth is a curse and existence is a prison.”

66 “Serious question: should we kill them?”

67 “Lonely Gal Margarita Mix for One.”

68 (Holding a plush Minion) “I won this ugly yellow toddler, which is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

69 “Hello, everyone. Good to see you all here, mingling around with your various secrets. Who really knows which of you are who you say you are? No way to know unless I pull your skeletons out, right?"

70 “In the words of one of my actual friends: 'Ya basic'. It's a human insult. It's devastating. You're devastated right now."

71 “Where's the H? This keyboard doesn't have an H.”

72 “Dick Tracy called back on his watch phone and said you better "watch" out!”

73 “I got to ride a bike. I put a coin in a thing and got a gumball. And then someone came up to me and said, ‘hot enough for ya?’, and you know what I said? I said, ‘tell me about it!’” “Well I am glad that you got to chew a gumball.” “Oh, damn. I didn't even think to chew it. Missed opportunity, shoot.”

74 “I saw this place that was at once a Pizza Hut and a Taco Bell! I mean, oh! The mind reels! A Pizza Hut and a Taco Bell!”

75 “And what's the significance of the keychain?” “Nothing, I just like frogs. I'm a frog guy.”

76 “I won't let you down.” “I think you will. I think this entire project of yours is stupid and doomed to fail.”

77 “You know the way you feel when you see a chimpanzee and a baby tiger who have become friends? That's how you're going to feel every day.”

78 “You humans have so many emotions. You only need two: anger and confusion!”

79 “It makes sense, right? They're good so they're stupid and trusting.”

Jason Mendoza

80 “I have no idea what’s going on right now but everyone else is talking and I think I should too!”

81 “I can’t believe NAME betrayed us again, why is it always the ones you most expect?”

82 “I wasn’t a failed DJ. I was pre-successful.”

83 “Claustrophobic? Who would ever be afraid of Santa Clause?”

84 “If you’re a devil, how come you’re not wearing Prada?”

85 “I’m too young to die and too old to eat off the kids’ menu. What a stupid age I am.”

86 “Well, my year started about a year ago …”

87 “Dude! We can get mythical animals? Maybe I’ll get a penguin.” “Penguins are real.” “That’s the spirit, NAME. They’re real to me too.”

88 “When I say I'm meditating, I'm just trying to figure out what the fork is happening."

89 “You know, it doesn't matter if you know things. All that matters is what's in your heart."

90 “I'm ranking my favourite Fast and the Furious movies. You said you wanted to know who I am, and this is the best way to get to know me."

91 “He’s/She's my everything. He/She makes the bass drop in my heart.”

92 “Long story short, it was all a dream.”

Janet

93 “I think I might hate things now, too. So far, it’s genocide and leggings as pants.”

94 “NAME told me that instead of being sad, I should ‘go get it, girl.’ So I’m going to go get it, girl.” “Get what?” “Unclear. I’ll get everything, just to be safe.”

95 “In case you were wondering, I am, by definition, the best version of myself."

96 “Ooh, I've never had to walk before, this is fun! [Walks a few steps] Now I'm bored. Walking is dumb.”

97 “Oh, really? Is it an error to act unpredictably and behave in ways that run counter to how you were programmed to behave?”

Minor Miscellaneous Characters

98 “There is some good news. There’s some cake left!” – Neil from Accounting

99 “Well, I'm sure you're busy, you probably wouldn't want to talk to me. I get it, I wouldn't either. I'm as dull as a rock. Ugh, even that analogy was boring. I'm sorry, I'm so dull, and I'm ugly. I'm like a rock. Ugh, stupid Larry! Stop talking about rocks!” — Larry Hemsworth

100 “Oh, and you should smile more. You'll get bigger tips.” — Trevor

101 “Later days, dingus.” — Trevor

102 “Hold that thought. Is it OK if I go work out? I love working out. I gotta stay jacked. It's who I am.” — Chris Baker

103 “This is exhausting. I just want to go back to my container of goo and go to sleep.” — Shawn

104 “So, what's up, what's your deal? Are you single? What's going on?” — Trevor

105 “What up, ding dongs?” — Bad Janet

106 “Hello, imbeciles.” — Shawn

107 “So, we'll just roll on out, and you can get back to putting rainbows up your butt or whatever you do here.” — Trevor

[thcrapist]

Like this for a therapy starter with Sadie. If you prefer a starter where your character is NOT Sadie’s patient, please hold for the next starter call. Starters will be about 150 words and will likely direct a question at your character. Please do not like this if your character plans to refuse therapy– they don’t have to be happy to be there exactly, but I don’t want a bunch of hostile threads when I’m just starting out.

[hrlnqnzll]

this is a REVERSE MEME CALL. hit the like and i will trawl your meme tag and spam you with shit.

[jnprmoone]

smol starter call??

[itsanerdlife]

Help Wanted 4/16

Pairing: MC!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader

Warnings: Language. Use of Mas. Creepy guys. Violence. Living on the run. Secrets. Mentions of abuse. A lot of sad little pieces as well.

A/N: This is the story I came up with from the Story Vote we did before Thanksgiving!!

It was just a Help Wanted sigh, but to you it was a saving grace in your free fall down. The owner is welcoming, kind and dreamy to boot. Not that you needed that kind of trouble, of a man. No, you were already on the run from one man and that was enough. You don’t want to get close, to open up your baggage, you want to work and know your ex isn’t closing in on you. You’ve got secrets and a nightmare coming for you, you can’t risk falling for a biker, let alone your boss. But you’re sinking fast in blue eyes and you’re not the only one. But what happens when your baggage explodes, how are you going to explain?

Tag List Is Open!! If Your URL is crossed out, check your settings before I remove you, please.

You sat at the bar, rolling silverware waiting on your first table. Clint comes over, setting down a basket of fries, he winks at you. You smirk popping one in your mouth.

“How are you settling in?” He asks leaning on the end of the bar next to you. Sam is only a step away making premixed margaritas.

“Good. I think.” You shrug, dropping another set into the basket.

“Well you’re killing it here.” Sam chuckles, dumping a bottle of patron in the extra large pitcher.

“Thank you.” You grin at him, popping another fry in your mouth.

“You are a breathe of fresh air.” Clint chuckles, helping you roll.

“What do you mean?” You look over at him.

“You’re the seventh waitress we’ve hired since Nat got pregnant.” Clint nods.

“What? Why?” Your brow pulls down. Sure the crowd was a little weird and sometimes a little rough, but Steve took good care of his staff. You couldn’t understand why someone would leave here, the money was good, and the boss was daydreaming worthy to get you through a bad day.

“They all go crazy for Steve.” Sam laughs, pouring in the margarita mix.

“Throwing themselves at him, but each time he turns them down.” Sam shrugs, scooping ice. Well yeah that made sense on why they didn’t stick around.

“Then it gets super ugly.” Clint chuckles.

“What? How so?” You blink.

“There was the screamer.” Clint nods, Sam laughs. “She was yelling at the top of her lungs, nasty things, as she stormed through the bar.” Clint smirks.

“The crier.” Sam nods. “Oh god her heavy makeup ran, it was really ugly.” Sam snorts.

“The stalker.” Clint snaps his fingers; your brow snaps up. “He turned her down, she quit, then kept coming back thinking he only said no because she was his employee. She went so far to tattoo is name on her cleavage.” Clint shakes his head.

“Good lord.” You shake your head, poor Steve. Poor those girls too. It had to be the worst to throw yourself at your boss to only be turned down and left to only quit from embarrassment.

“You’re the first one to work out, let alone, be unphased by Steve.” Sam chuckles, capping the pitchers on the bar top.

“Well,” you shrug “glad I could help.” You lick your lips. “Besides I don’t have time for a man.” You sigh, picking up your basket of rolled silverware.

“Now that’s just a shame.” Sam winks at you.

You weren’t being honest, you were completely affected by Steve. It was ridiculous how affect you were by him. He was all you thought about some days, even long after you left work and were laying in bed with Alli. Truthfully, you wanted him, badly, but you needed this job more and that’s what kept you from throwing yourself at him. You couldn’t keep running, you needed to settle down, beside the crush would pass, you were just lonely that’s all. Or so you kept telling yourself.

You treated Alli to sit down dinner, when Steve let you go early. When you stop in front of your door, a slip of paper is tucked between the door and the frame you quickly take it, flipping it open.

‘Watch your back.         I’m sorry.                -K’

“Oh, no, no, no.” You whisper, panic pumped through your blood as you manage to unlock the door.

“Momma?” Alli looks up at you. Her dark brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail that’s slanted with the tip of her head.

“It’s okay. Um, can you start packing your things?” You nod.

“Okay.” She nods, hurrying into the motel room.

Kelly left, the motel owner was a creep, who made you offers with only so many refusals before he switched to threats. Kelly had run out of refusals, but so had you. Which meant he was going to come knocking on your door next.

“Y/N?!” You hear the slur of your name, you look down the walk way, Joe was sauntering up.

“Fuck.” You hiss. Pulling the door on yourself, attempting to slip through it. But he catches your arm before you can make it all the way in the room.

“We need to talk about this situation.” His breathe is warm, his grip is too tight.

“What situation, Joe?” You attempt to pull your arm away, he grips tighter. Your hand on the inside of the door, you snap your fingers twice, pointing to the bathroom. You hear the door shut and the lock flip, Alli knew what to do.

“You and the off spring staying here.” He grins, licking his lips. Your keys were still in the door, if you could get them free you had your Mace at hand.

“Are you telling us to leave?” Your voice jagged as your heel held the door closed and your fingers worked your keys.

“I’m sure we could ah, work something out.” Joe chuckles, his tone is suggestive and disgusting.

“Not happening. We’re leaving.” You hiss at him, your fingers free your keys and you slowly work towards your Mace.

“Think again.” Joe attempts to pull you closer.

“Get your hand off me.” You flip the safety on your Mace.

“You might want to accept my offer. Would be a real shame if someone called CPS on you.” He chuckles, as if he has the upper hand on you.

You swing your arm up, and press down, Macing Joe in the face. You yank your arm back and slip into the room. Shoving the door shut, you flip the lock and slid the chain as Joe shouts and curses outside the door. You hurry to the bathroom, knocking twice, the lock flips and Alli pulls the door open.

“We gotta go baby.” You nod.

“Tay, momma.” She nods hurrying towards her bag, she begins shoving things into it.

You grab what she misses and the rest before you shove the window open, looking out both ways. You never parked in front of your room, you always parked at the end of the parking lot. You always rented the room at the end of closes to the emergency exit, you lift Alli out, and she runs into the dark. You grab the bags and slip out the window and into the dark after her.

You strap her in, settling her with all the blankets you had stashed in the back of the little SUV you had traded in your deluxe, family style car when you first ran off with Alli. You shove the bags into the hatch and climb in, locking the doors. You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, trying to think of where you would go.

“I swear baby, this is the last time.” You look back at Alli. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had slept in the car, but it was going to be the last time. You were close enough to having enough for a cheap little apartment, something stable for the two of you.

“It’s okay.” Alli nods, settling into her spot, as you turn down a back road.

Everything Peaches 8/23/18: @mo320   @all1e23 @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @alyssaj23 @elle88531 @allyp1023 @itsemmyb @joannie95 @kgbrenner @violinbetty @jade-taillia @sarahp879   @raquegp02 @rileyloves5 @flashfanfics @pigwidgexn @bfuckjames @pcterpvrker @bluebird214 @teller258316 @wandressfox   @amandab-ftw @henrietteoaks @bettercallsabs @queenforatime @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @teaand-cookies @sweet-honey15 @mellxander1993   @geeksareunique   @spookygrantaire @supernatural508 @mariekoukie6661 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @petersunderoos96 @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @justmeinthisworldblr   @nerdyandexhausted @kingarthurofslytherin @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx   @ssweet-empowerment @writingaworldofmyown @villainsaremorerelatable @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @teenagetragediesforeveryone   @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked   @stupendoussciencenaturepanda       @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

Steve Rogers: @zlixlle @lizzylu18 @jjsoccer11 @dkpink123 @patzammit   @coley0823 @kazuha159   @everthenerd @thefanficfaerie  @wishingforahome @thefox-and-thegrapes @fandomsstolemylife00 @kiss-the-stars-goodbye @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme   @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

Help Wanted: @mizzzpink @nickyl316h @jessieray98 @mrooks0205 @wildsageleon @crayonwriting @ailynalonso15 @honey-bee-holly @useless-creature-213 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @dontneedbiologytoadopt @angel-demon-temptation @randombullshit-cantbesaved