ind. & priv. MULTI-MUSE CANON & ORIGINAL by livi. she/her. 25. cst.
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
Through the windows of the car, he can see the sun dipping low in the horizon, spotted in brief, passing glimpses in the gaps between the forest of skyscrapers and screens. There was almost something peaceful in watching the sunlight dim and the city lights become brighter and brighter, bathing streets and citizens in color. Another evening, another night arising, but no less eventful than any morning or midday.
He looks at the digital sign above the door : Japantown South. The NCART car slows, though it still lurches even as it comes to its gradual stop. John's grip on the pole near the door tightens briefly as he keeps his balance and waits for the doors to open. People begin to stand and gather to exit. He glances about him slightly, taking note that he feels eyes on him. Not just NCART passengers idly looking around in the seconds before the doors slide open, but a gaze that's been on him for the last two stops.
He searches in casual looks over his shoulder; allows a woman pushing closer to the door to pass him by turning his body briefly and getting a another quick overview of the car before turning back. As it turned out, that was all he needed. ( A mutual spying now. ) Crossing her path was becoming unintentionally common, it seemed. Rarely at odds, only the single time as almost-enemies — but a merc is a merc ( and one must always watch their back in this city ) . Staying careful not to give his awareness away, he steps out of the car and walks forward.
Night City citizens bustle about, getting to where they need to go, skirting around him and shoving past him. But he continues to walk, no real destination in truth, but simply catching her reflection in windows, gauging how long she might follow him to nowhere in particular — and if he'd have to intervene. As he comes to a corner, he can recognize she's still behind him. His pace slows gradually, just enough that the distance between them begins to shrink. He comes to a slow stop, turning his head to look over his shoulder and accuse her of trailing him. His tone isn't hostile, but simply neutral.
John's body turns softly, just enough to face her more, but not enough to say he has intentions of staying in this conversation long. That, however, appears to not be up to him. She links her elbow with his and the initial confusion is sharp in his mind. Body tenses lightly, resistant to whatever game she's playing. And, yet, tolerant. ( Should anything happen ... he knows how quickly he can pull the iron at his hip and fire. ) So he'll play along for now, though an unseen timer ticks down on his patience — there's no telling just how long he might humor this. Looking at her, he responds, ❝ I'll hold you to that, ❞ a vague sense of warning in his voice.

At this time of the evening there's a good crowd starting to take residence on the NCART car. Deskjockeys having clocked out for the day, worker bees getting ready for nightshifts, rowdy kids finally free from the confines of prison that is the education system...and so much more. It's perfect for anyone that wants to observe the many facets of humanity in action.
Despite the mix of interesting subjects, there's one in particular that she's gravitated towards. John blends in well enough. Yet his visage is well memorized, singed into her cortex, which allows her ease in spotting in him. A wolf in a sea of sheep.
She keeps a healthy distance but a vigilant eye on him (but also on others around her). If he's noticed her he makes no acknowledgement of it. They even happen to get off at the same stop. What a coincidence!
"Are you following me?" @yllowpages inquires not even half a block from the metro station.
The sudden callout causing her to startle, nearly colliding with him. "That's ridiculous! Such a bullshit accusation. Might actually hurt my feelings." V shakes her head with a scoff. A pout tugs at her lips, gaze darting to glance around the bustling streets of Japantown. Back and forth she rocks on her heels. "Look just play it cool and keep your voice down, yeah?"
Then she has the gall, the audacity, to loop her arm with his. "Make it worth your while, pinky promise."
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
GLEN POWELL attends the 82nd Annual Golden Globe Awards (Jan 05, 2025)
#visage / johnny cage.#i was silent about the mk2 movie trailer bc..................#i'm sorry but THIS is my johnny cage
2K notes
·
View notes
Text

i need to re-read strikeforce.........
#ooc.#i don't remember much#just this moment that i have saved on my computer#and it being very goofy#and as someone who doesn't read a ton of comics#i liked it a lot
1 note
·
View note
Text
yet another PLOTTING CALL. like this post and i'll come message you ! feel free to comment below and specify a muse you'd like to plot with.
if we've plotted before, like the post anyway! i'll message you to expand / deepen on any dynamics we've already discussed, or create entirely new ones !
#i'm about to start working#and will be working for the next six hours#and will be spotty on discord and the like#but i'll be around after work at least
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
it's her favorite spot.


i've posted these before but they're truly some of the greatest panels of bucky ever
5 notes
·
View notes
Text


i've posted these before but they're truly some of the greatest panels of bucky ever
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about how bucky will just take alpine everywhere. like he will be grocery shopping and she's just chilling in his jacket.
but when it's not feasible for her to go somewhere and he needs to be away he will either leave her with someone trustworthy or pay a kind neighbor to look after her.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
YOUR MONSTER (2024) dir. Caroline Lindy
Melissa Barrera as Laura Franco
@lgbtqcreators creator bingo - film of the year
596 notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ Does ' came into the possession of ' sound better? ❞ It's halfway to a joke. He understands that this isn't the most professional, above-the-table of meetings it could be. ( Bucky's still surprised she responded after he cold-called her. ) The collar of his jacket is popped and his shoulders are somewhat hunched, tense, as he leans forward, over the table after sliding the recorder over. A more clandestine location could have been picked, surely, but this was simpler ( and he heard the pie here was good ) .
He laces gloved fingers together, leaving them resting on the table top. There's a full cup of coffee next to them, but he doesn't touch it.
❝ I'll spare you the details on how. Prob'ly for the best. ❞ Feels like an understatement. A possibly illegal, felonious one. But, like they say, you can't make an omelette ... And corrupt career politicians in Metropolis of all places planning to assassinate their opposition tend to be carrying a lot of eggs. He was only able to get his hands on a few, stored right there in the recording he's handing over. But he hopes it'll be enough. In the right hands, at least, it should be. ( But that's exactly why he's here, isn't it? )
❝ Just call it an anonymous tip. ❞ A hand finally reaches out and pulls the coffee closer to him. He glances down at it and the steam still rising from it, then looks back up at Lois, expression equal amounts serious and casual. ❝ Also prob'ly for the best. ❞ ( Pardon or not, still being the former Winter Soldier doesn't earn the cleanest of reputations. )
@yllowpages / starter for bucky.
" You -- you just obtained this? " Lois' voice is a bit incredulous, but she takes the recorder from Bucky's hand, turning it over in her palms. " Alright -- I guess I could take it. "
1 note
·
View note
Text
"I don't believe in the idea of better men. There are just people who fight for truth and people who live in lies."
reading comics on company time and oh james barnes i love you
#ooc.#bucky never being able to fully convince himself#that he's freed of all the bad things he did#just because he wasn't in control#it was still his hands and that's something he carries#but he'll be damned if he'll still let that define him#so he may not think he's a good man#but he'll fight the good fight anyway
1 note
·
View note
Text
“... oh, I'm fine. I have a great past, so I'm totally fine.”
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
He remembers his first time in a Continental hotel. He remembers how strange it felt being so cordial in the polished, impeccably designed hallways with people he knew could be pointing a piece if iron at his head the next day. Over time, however, it felt like a second home, anywhere in the world. Somewhere to rest, recover. Even in a place like Night City, with not much to offer but endless violence ( and endless money for those like him that profit off of the violence ) , the Continental offered that for him.
John watches as she shrinks in the middle of the expansive room and his eyes soften. He may be used to this, ready to sleep easy here after such a tumultuous night, but he can't expect that of her, especially in how little time he's spent with her thus far. So there's restrained confusion and surprise as she turns her attention outward, to him. He keeps his eyes on her as she hurries about the apartment, though the requests for him to comply fall flat. John remains standing, the pain in his thigh having become a dull roar for the time being ( as long as he doesn't move much ) .
He sighs quietly as she produces basic first-aid supplies from the bathroom ( the least management could do, in case the doctor is preoccupied ) . He sees the unease and fear on her face, hears it in her voice, knows what she's doing. And while the concern may be appreciated, he doesn't have much trust in her medical skills while she's in such a state. ❝ You're safe, ❞ he promises in an attempt to assuage her obvious worries. ❝ They can't reach you here. ❞ He silently searches for eye-contact in a show that, while placating, his words are sincere.
Timing is everything once again and there's a knock at the room's door. John keeps his gaze on Eliza for a few moments longer before walking to the door, hiding his limp as best he can ( for her sake ) . The door opens and, in the hallway, stands a woman not far from John's age. Her right hand is entirely silver and gold from the middle of her forearm down and she's dressed comfortably ( clothing not unlike hospital scrubs ) . She holds a leather bag at her side. Her expression shifts upon seeing the room's resident : they know each other.
' Called back by Night City's siren song again? ' she asks, with a kind, bright tone in her voice. ' Or maybe just gonk enough to leave and keep coming back. ' John can't help but scoff slightly in response and greet her with, ❝ Doc, ❞ as he steps out of the way for her to enter. ' Good to see you again, John. Though I guess it's bad news we're seeing each other at all. ' With only a quick look up and down, she can immediately spot the wound to his leg. ❝ Her first. ❞ John glances in Eliza's direction, prompting the doctor to look as well. Her reaction is evident : she recognizes the Love Bot, but quiets any verbal confirmation of that fact ( discretion above all is valued here ) . Even from where she stands, she's immediately assessing Eliza's physical state. ❝ Maelstrom, ❞ he explains as simply as he can, receiving an understanding nod in response. ' Sure. ' Her voice is notably mellowed with the added context, expression gentler, preparing herself to approach.
John walks back toward the rockergirl, a different person than the one plastered onto all her neon-lighted billboards across the city. Those posters were uninhibited and unrestrained, yet carefully curated. Here, he's looking at her stripped down to every detail an individual hides from those around them. Small and scared. A light crease forms between his brows as he assures her, ❝ She's here to help. ❞ He awaits the combative nature he's come to expect from her ; the possibility of immediate pushback. Regardless, he chooses to add, ❝ We can trust her. ❞
it's all a blur: the capture, the promised torture, the rescue. the silence that settles instantly between herself and her bodyguard in his car goes unnoticed - the sound in eliza's ears is that of a deafeningly loud ringing, echoed only by the taunts and laughter of those who had held her captive. captive, not hostage. there was no intended rescue mission - maelstrom had been clear in their intention to make an example of her. it still doesn't feel real - the would-be lynching, the rescue ... all of it. she abhors the silence, for it allows her too much freedom to ponder and relive the events prior to this moment. she wishes he'd say something, but ... she's not entirely sure that she could even make a sound in return.
eliza flinches once when the car stops, panic settling in her throat as john exits the driver's seat. she debates staying in the car - even as he expectantly opens the door for her, she remains unmoving. she can trust him - she has to trust him. her movement to stand is slow and calculated as she eyes the entire surrounding vicinity. an overpriced, exclusive hotel in night city that the love bot has yet to set foot in? impossible. she blinks, winces and stews in embarrassment of the implicit reaction as the valet steps toward them - for all intents and purposes, she is cowering behind john's shoulder, unyielding in the effort to avoid eye contact with anyone but him. she doesn't remember reaching for his arm, but she's thankful for the tether to a physical reality shared between them. her heartbeat keeps time against a hummingbird's pulse.
for all that eliza flirts with death, dances with the well-worn circumstance of her own life as collateral just for kicks - this is different. this is a situation beyond her control, played out all too well into the hands of those who view her as nothing more than a commodity. maelstrom, those who would tout her as a living relic. universal, who would gut her of all humanity and prop the real and true love bot on a pedestal; squeezed and wrung out of all human life to operate as they pleased. she is only alive because the latter paid off a highly-talented lackey to come and rescue her - eliza's cursed circumstance was the only thing that could've saved her. she feels like she might choke on the irony of it all.
she's almost as solitary as the professional behind the counter that john speaks with; eliza remains focused on the floor beneath her feet. she’s barefoot - she’s just remembering that she is barefoot. that hardly feels like anything worth noting beyond the fact that she looks wildly out of place in this well-composed mystery building. she's sinking into the memories of what has happened and the fear of what's to come when eliza hears john gently usher her toward an elevator. (at a later time, she'll recall the whole interaction possessed within john's request for a room - the gold coin and the wordless understanding of it all. now is not that time.)
initially, she'd put up a mean fight - something futile against the hands and enhanced cyberware and weaponry of cult-obsessed monsters. though the visible blood on her skin is minimal, she's sure that there will be bruising, something internally damaged somewhere in her battered torso - it hurts to breathe. everything hurts. she doesn't want to be here - she doesn't want any of this to be real. she must've said it out loud, then - that she needs to go to a hospital. eliza doesn't hear it in her own voice, but she hears the faint return of john telling her that there's a doctor here (wherever 'here' is), that they'll look at her. her grip on his forearm tightens, and her empty stomach turns over into something more toxic than nausea.
she's unwillingly pliant as he coaxes her hand off his arm. immediately, eliza's arms surround her own waist, one forearm folded over the other as her fingers hook onto the torn and dirtied fabric of her top. she's trembling, shaking damn near bad enough that her teeth can be heard chattering behind her lips. there’s no reply to his offer of room service, a drink - she doesn’t think that it’d make much of a difference at this point. she’s begging for a distraction when her eyes finally travel up from the floor to the cut on his leg.
her voice cracks and breaks as she finally denotes, "you're hurt," unrelenting in her attempt to neglect the dissection of the trauma currently burying deep into her subconscious; eyes remain glued on the blood along john’s leg, swallowing something shallow and dry as she begins to busy herself in the only task she knows better than anything - putting others above herself. she steps forward, mindlessly searching for some kind of first aid kit - she offhandedly points to the plush bed, muttering a hushed, “sit,” before continuing her search in the bathroom. (if he thinks he knows what’s good for her - allow the distraction.)
soon enough, she returns with a small container of peroxide and bandages. she’ll find john wherever he is and gesture toward the marred skin of his leg with intentions on cleaning the wound, at least. “c’mon,” she pleads, voice still small and defeated, “let me help you.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
🎀 Say something nice about your character. (john)
there's honestly so many things i could say... but the funny thing is i don't even entirely remember, when i watched john wick for the first time, exactly what it was that really stuck out to me because i was just so taken with the whole thing.
but honestly one of my favorite things about him is that he will do anything and everything in a fight. like "fighting in the denny's parking lot" rules. anything is on the table. for all the elegant aesthetic and all the rules and laws of that world... it's just so funny that john, and everyone else, is so willing to just fight dirty and especially petty. it's endlessly entertaining. and i personally think it just adds a fun layer to john's character. he's so highly trained, so lethal, we see him move through that really sleek, cool world. and then he's biting people's hands and and slapping the back of their head and kicking them in the nuts. it's not flashy and it's not that cool-looking, but it is effective and that's the point.
1 note
·
View note
Text
⚡ random INCORRECT QUOTE EDITS, bc i feel like it (: / @yllowpages + eliza.
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
💕 Say something nice about your own writing.
i'm always very hard on myself honestly but i'll pat myself on the back for my dialogue a lot of the time. i, usually, feel like i'm able to get my characters' voices down fairly well. understanding how they speak and what phrases they'd use and how frequently they speak and whether they'd rather respond with silence than anything. especially with canon characters, i do often revisit their source material to brush up since hearing their voice can help me figure things out when i'm stuck on a reply, trying to figure out what they'd say. which means i am guilty of stealing exact lines from their source material at times but if it's applicable and it works, it works. with any ocs, i'll look to media that inspired them and their voices. or simply look up things from the face/voiceclaim so i can have that sound in my head and go through line options. but all of these things, i think, help lead me to a place where i can capture their voices decently in my replies.
but this also means if i watch a lot of things with any characters i don't write then characters from that thing can seep into my head, even if i have zero intention of writing them, and i have to like... recenter myself so i'm not accidentally throwing random shit in there during the process sdgjksl
#ooc.#even then..... i second guess my dialogue a lot#and i constantly worry that it doesn't Sound like them#but in the end#this is a hobby#i'm here to have fun#there are no stakes here
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
🍵 What does your writing process look like? Do you make physical notes first? Do you use docs?
i kind of almost always start by writing down any dialogue and/or important actions i feel my character would respond with. that's often the first thing i'm able to think of right away and then i can get into the process of waxing poetic about context and action and everything else.
but it also changes with every reply honestly. there is the occasion i do struggle with my dialogue so i start with the narration and try to use that to help inform my dialogue or inform how my character should word things, since sometimes i just have to take some time to mess with the cadence.
in regards to any non-rp writing, i actually enjoy writing screenplays a lot (which is why i focus on dialogue an action first and then go to everything else sdgjks) and my process there is a lot different. i've taken to handwriting most of them because i enjoy the process of stopping to leave myself notes in the margins for when i inevitably do a rewrite (plus once the handwritten draft is done, transcribing it to digital serves as a rewrite at the same time since i can make changes on the fly). but also that writing feels a lot more casual and my rp writing feels more formal since i'm diving a little deeper into characters' psyche through narration since, in this case, it's meant to be read, whereas a screenplay is meant to be watched.
#ooc.#i honestly struggle a little bit with the non-dialogue and non-action#part of my replies#it takes extra brain power#because i want to make sure i'm discussing pertinent details#things that are expanding the space and the context and the situation#rather than just writing random shit to just pad a reply#sgdjksl
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
VERY SPECIFIC MUNDAY ASKS
🫧 Why did you pick this particular muse? 💭 Replying and writing opens: Yes or No? Why? ✨ Faceclaims that aren't banned but you cannot stand? 🐠 Do you write outside of the RPC? 🪼 How many languages do you speak? 🐇 What is the best way to approach you? 🍵 What does your writing process look like? Do you make physical notes first? Do you use docs? 🍡 Favourite snack while writing? 🥤 Favourtie drink while writing? 🗯 Show us the last youtube video you watched. 🌊 What was the first muse you've ever written? 🌱 What was the last book you read? 🪻 Do you prefer sending memes or receiving them? 🍭 Say something nice about your appearance. 🎀 Say something nice about your character. 🪷 Whose writing do you admire? 💕 Say something nice about your own writing. 🍑 What is something you hyperfocus on in your portrayal? 💫 Say something nice about a random mun.
104 notes
·
View notes