location: bread and butter

status: closed for @dakotaheise

Bek was utterly mystified by the way her brain worked.

The last time she’d seen Dakota she couldn’t remember for the life of her where to find adobo seasoning (was it with the general spices or in the ethnic aisle?) despite shopping at Bell’s all thirty-three years of her life, yet she remembered their exchange, brief as it might’ve been. 

With a warm smile and a near silent self-deprecating laugh at her own shortcomings she wandered over to where Liv’s younger sister sat. 

“Hey, Kota.” The smile on her face grew wider while she paused just shy of the table. “How did you luck out with the rest of that list the other day?” A tiny pang of guilt echoed in her chest at having been called away for work before she could really be much help. “Did you find what you needed?”

@araneorum liked this lyric starter call // still accepting

track 15 // "the alchemy"

"that child's play back in school is forgiven under my rule..."

location: his house

status: closed for @ryanparrish

The situation felt a little too close to how she'd shown up at Ryan's door all those weeks ago, the only difference being that time her stomach knotted with what suspiciously felt like hope. This time, as she slid from the driver's seat the only thing Tess could call the beast in her belly was dread.

Unfortunately, she couldn't just get back in the car and continue avoiding this conversation any longer. It'd been long enough since the night of the auction, upset stomach be damned.

Still, her approach wasn't immediate. No. Tess eyed the door to his trailer with a healthy dose of trepidation for a solid minute before her feet finally got with the program.

Loosing a sigh from her lips she palmed her keys, then rapped a few closed fist knocks to get his attention. Assuming he was even home.

Was he home?

She probably should've called first. Except any amount of warning to her arrival would've only given Ryan time to formulate an excuse. An explanation as to how, exactly, he was still married when he'd point blank swore the opposite years ago.

Call her hypocritical (she'd kept her own secrets out of their letters) but the revelation of his absolutely still real marriage vows felt different from not disclosing Waverly sooner. Keeping news of her daughter away from his ears was still a shade dishonest, but it hadn't been a bold faced lie.

Just thinking about their parallel predicaments reignited a searing heat in her blood.

Married. Still married.

Tess barely managed to swallow the sound of her self-directed scoff when, at last, the door swung wide... and there he was. Ryan Parrish. The man she once assumed she'd spend her entire life with and now couldn't help but study like a stranger.

It killed her— Noting that difference between past and present. Between moving home and learning his carefully kept, blissfully wedded truth.

This wasn't how their story was supposed to go.

"I think it's time we talked." To Tess' credit she bravely jutted her chin, but her heart gave an unsteady gallop when she followed with the barbed quip, "Unless your wife is home?"

location: bread and butter

status: closed for @calliemontgomery

It'd been such a brief exchange - no more than ten or so minutes spent between two women with similar goals - and yet, when Cami's gaze landed on Callie across the room, recognition hit instantly.

Sauntering over, hands loosely slipped into the pockets of her thin jacket, she paused near enough to muse, "I never did bump into you again at the auction. How went your date with that bottle of rose?"

She'd meant to find her again, had meant to suggest maybe one day they meet up to share a bottle wine... and then SImone happened. Faced with a contestant who never showed and a spot to fill her so-called 'friend' thrust Cami out onto stage on a whim.

After that, nothing about the rest of her night went to plan.

location: the silk road

status: closed for @jesseelmassalamy

Selin never did make it around to help Jesse with that tree. As it turned out, manning a shop solo during the holidays didn’t lend much free time. Not that she was all that qualified on proper Christmas decorating techniques, anyway. 

A Muslim upbringing - apparently half on his part, whole on hers - was one of the newest and unexpected things she learned they shared in common. Okay— so far it was the only thing beyond a shared past in Boston that she knew they shared in common, but hopefully tonight would change that. 

She must have tried on seventeen different outfits before meeting him in town for dinner. Questioned whether he’d meant the invitation as a date or not-a-date double that amount. At least twice she even considered showing up in socks and sandals (I’m not a barbarian, she’d assured him that night, of course they’re fine) but given the weather decided to spare her toes the risk of frostbite. 

Yet all those wonderings and worries and second turned third guesses vanished once they were actually sat across from each other, surrounded by the rich scent of Mediterranean food and quiet chatter.

“I can say ‘tacos please’ in six different languages, I nearly had to repeat ninth grade because of math, and my favorite color is lavender.” Twirling her straw around in her glass Sey smirked. “Go ahead, Mr. Human Lie Detector. Which one is false?”

@murder-popsicle ♡'d a starter call

"Gotta keep still or this won't work." Following another bout of Hydra hunting they were licking their wounds and recovering. Was unfortunate for Bucky that she was dealing with him as a field medic.

@vntagetee hit the ♡ for a starter

Pete never had the amount of time he wanted for it but even with what happened to Aunt May he was a regular face at the FEAST shelter. Over the years this place had become such a passion for May and helping the people here get back on their feet made him feel good. The least that he could do was roll up his sleeves when he had the free time and be put to work by whoever was coordinating things these days.

After a few hours of helping out, avoiding the kitchen as May had long ago banned him from cooking, he came upon a new face as he was getting ready to leave. "I've never seen you before." Had been a time that he was acquainted with just about every volunteer from their regulars to the seasonal people just wanting to give back to the community over holidays. She was someone he swore he'd never seen before. "I'm Peter."

@sltzetic ♡'d for a lyric thing

"Us against the world, we can battle whoever."

starter for @pumpkinstabs​

“You’re Michael, right?” Chrissy asked, holding the clipboard to her chest. Her smile was genuine and her tone was simply curious, but there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes as she spoke. Jason hadn’t had the nicest things to say about him, but nor did he have very nice things to say about most people. “I’m Chrissy.”

「 🌈 : @vcnusians​​​ 」

° ✧ GINGER SNAPS PROPMTS // accepting

based on this ask ‘You can’t do this alone.’  

Robin appreciated El’s concern but at the same time it annoyed her. She wasn’t used to having friends to care about her well being. She felt like a burden and that just left her irritated when they still tried to help her. She’d been doing it alone for eighteen years and never expected anything to change. “I’ve handled it all this time. I think I’ll be just fine. Hop probably wouldn’t want you here anyway.” She didn’t even know why she’d let El follow her home. She should have shooed her off before they reached the trailer park.

Looking at the man on her lawn in distain, she shook her head. “What are you going to do? Levitate him into the house?” It was an attempt to be amusing even if it was far from funny. Her father was an embarrassment. She didn’t want El thinking her father was a bad man even if he really was. Robin was still protective of him when he didn’t deserve it. “Usually I just leave him out here. He’ll sleep it off and sober up.” She shrugged as she walked carefully around him. He was out cold and that could last a while. “You want to come inside?” That was really the last thing she wanted but the younger girl was already there so she might as well have some company.

Zero two!

location: Covington's 12th Annual Valentine Date Night Auction

status: closed for @wyattxabhrams

"Waving almost two grand around is a really odd way of asking if I'd like to split a pizza. You know that, right?"

Not that they were serving any 12-cuts with extra olives, extra cheese that night. Bek could only wish to be that lucky. They'd probably end up with those fancy plates with food she neither recognized, nor could pronounce the name of that were finished in point two polite bites.

Still, half amused and half stunned to be sitting there across from Wyatt Abhrams, of all people, she leaned into the tease. "Especially from someone who seems just as keen on avoiding me as he is being in my company." Low, throaty laughter rolled out before she stifled the sound with a quick bite into her lip, eyes glinting and wholly locked on him.

"Seriously, though, I almost feel like I owe you one tonight." It was never simple - deciding what to withold, what to share - but she admitted, "Out of everyone who started flashing their wallets when I walked out there, you're... kind of the only date I wouldn't have been tempted to ditch."

@araneorum liked this lyric starter call // still accepting

track 4 // "guilty as sin"

"someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk."

          ❝ Trust me, sweetheart, I’ll be here when the starlight fades, right alongside you. I’ll bring you back from anywhere; if you’ll do the same, there’s no end here. I’m not willing to lose you. I’m not willing to say goodbye.                         ― The Sweeplings,  ❛ Goodbye ❜

          How many, she wonders, how many times is it now? An injured Aymeric calls for his father in a futile attempt at diplomacy despite everything. She knows what comes of this conversation, of his idealism. She’s heard it before — over and over   ( and over and over and ... )   She knows what comes next, too. He will turn to her and, in a silent understanding of one another, he will lead the charge at her side to put an end to a thousand year war here and now. And then he will fall so that she might live.           Not this time, she tells herself. How many times has she said this? Have the number of loops come to rival the number of times she’s relived this moment in her dreams? Again and again she’s watched it, lived it. Again and again she’s failed. She can’t tell if she’s awake or dreaming anymore.           She steps forward without him; she knows he’ll follow.   ( When was the last time she looked at him directly? How many loops ago? )   Her hand tightens around Cronus’s hilt and she pulls it from her back.   ( Each time she comes back here it feels a little heavier. )   The heavy blade echoes when it hits the marble, as the steel scrapes over stone with every step she takes. She knows precisely where it happens, precisely how long it takes to get there. She knows Zephirin’s spear is already airborn before @ishguardians' warning rings out.           She pivots before she hears it connect with his shield,   ( faster, faster, faster, )   using all of her body weight and every ounce of strength she can muster to swing the greatsword in a wide arc.   ( Too soon and she misses, too late and she misses. How many times has she missed? )   Just as the aetherial spear makes contact with the shield, so too does Cronus connect with the spear. It’s not enough, she knows — she’s been here, too. The shield cracks and her leg sweeps out, hooking behind his to unsteady him.   ( If his spear must strike, let it miss its mark. )           He falls, like he always does, and she cannot bring herself to look.           As does she. Her own balance unstable, the stone sends tremors through her body as it connects with armored knees and she leans all her weight on the sword embedded in the stone to at least stay upright. She doesn’t bother looking up as the airship makes its departure — there’s no point. Her chest heaves from the exertion and she it’s all she can do to wait for the inevitable blackness that signals the end of a loop, that signals her failure to overtake her.

                                                          𓆩❀𓆪

location: nook antiques

status: closed for @saraiayutthaya

"What do you think about this piece?" Head canted to the side, Tess surveyed the carved oak console table apparently from France, 19th century, according to it's description and price tag. "Is it pretty, or is it just old and expensive?"

Shopping for overpriced antique furniture was genuinely the least of her concerns right now, but that was sort of the point.

She needed to get out of the house, out of her head, and just be a normal person who didn't have a missing father or a married ex she was still in love.

So long as this new, imaginary version of herself still retained control of current hers bank account of course.

"There's this little nook between the front hall and the kitchen that needs... something," she continued, as if the two older ladies not-so-subtly hiding one booth over weren't just whispering about her auction night disaster of an experience.

location: in the backroom at harp antiques

status: closed for @katerinadelarosa

"What do you think the chances are that any of this stuff is haunted?"

Shuffling around a few open boxes of various bits and bobs that hadn't yet made it out onto the sales floor, Sey plucked a vintage hat off a mannequin and dropped it on her head. For Kat's entertainment she immediately struck a pose, one hand braced on her hip and the other still clutching a beer.

If they were going to be there who knew how long that night, combing through inventory and rearranging displays, at least they could do it a little bit sloshed. "Like, do you think Miss Agatha is gonna come haunt me in my sleep if I wear this out for tea?"