Teddie's Voice, A Mere Whisper Against The Pounding Of Her Own Heart, Trembled As She Spoke. "Seb, I'm

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

.  🕸️ㅤ♡   ˖⠀❛⠀⠀to m &. f   ,

                         w/ jewel   .

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

Is Larry Stylinson still a thing? If so, I have some prompts if anyone wants to rp >.<

Plot # 64: A Hand to Hold

amoonlitmemory​:

“Alex, look at me. You’re going to get through this, okay?” Genevieve pulled out the chair next to her brother and took one of his hands into hers, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. In reality she was worried sick for him, this wasn’t something that she could protect him from. It wasn’t like when he was younger and their father got into one of his rages. “I can’t promise you everything is going to be okay little brother, I won’t do that to you. What I will promise is that I’m here for you.”   

Alex looked into Genevieve's eyes, his own filled with a mixture of fear and vulnerability. He shook his head, breaking their connection momentarily, unable to bear the weight of his thoughts. He took a deep breath, gathering the strength to voice his deepest concerns. “I... I'm terrified, Gen," Alex admitted, his voice quivering with emotion. He fought to hold back tears, determined not to crumble in front of his sister “I’m going to die out there. I won’t make it back a second time. I know it and the thought haunts me, it consumes me.” His voice choked with a mix of anguish and desperation, Alex continued, “I don’t want to die-- I’ve seen first hand how it happens. It’s not brave or courageous like they make it sound. It’s painful and it’s lonely. I’ve seen men cry out for their mothers, begging for comfort in their final moments, only to be left behind to die a lonely and miserable death.” As tears streamed down his face, memories played like a relentless reel in his mind. Each image etched deeply into his soul, intensifying his inner turmoil.

Kai had barely exhaled the first lungful of smoke when he noticed the shift in her. She wasn’t saying anything, but the tension between them—it was different out here. Less noise, less space to hide behind. He could feel it now, the kind of crackling energy that hung between them. Not exactly anger anymore, but something hotter, more raw.

He wasn’t surprised when she snatched the cigarette from his hand, tossing it over her shoulder. The gesture was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He watched her, eyebrows raised, as her hands slipped around his neck and pulled him in. No hesitation. No words. Just action.

His breath caught, the urgency of the kiss catching him off guard for a moment, but he was quick to respond, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back with the same intensity. She wasn’t just trying to shut him up—she was trying to erase whatever was left between them. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else feel irrelevant. The world was quiet now. All that mattered was the heat of their skin, the rush of breath, and the unmistakable thrum of whatever this was.

to say she couldn't pinpoint him was an understatement. the crazy way she just wanted to argue with him and feel the heat rise between them, sparks firing left right and center. she had never experienced anything like it. normally when a guy pissed her off it stayed just as that, she wouldn't engage in it unless she absolutely had to, but in this case she wanted to. the moment she stepped outside and let the chill rise goosebumps over her skin she felt less enclosed, and more free without the atmosphere surrounding them. just a few people smoking and chatting outside and the night sky brimming with stars above them.

pia wondered whether he would follow her but she had a sense that he would. whether he too wanted to be in denial about what was going on between them he could sense it just as much as her. not that you'd actually hear her utter those words outloud. when his figure shifted from the shadows into the light of the secluded area she felt rather smug, but it didn't show on her features. instead she watched him carefully as he lit his cigarette, remaining quiet as he took his first drag before she swiftly removed it from his hand. tossing it over her shoulder her hands worked to move around his own and behind the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss of complete urgency. anything to shut him up at this point.

Rhiannon didn’t respond right away. She let his words settle, watching the way he curled in on himself, the way his frustration laced through every syllable. She didn’t flinch at the bitterness in his tone—just observed, quiet and steady.

After a moment, she looked away, out toward the darkened yard. “I know what you mean,” she murmured. “When there’s too much noise, too many thoughts, and no way to turn them down.” Her fingers idly traced a knot in the wood beneath her. “It’s like being stuck inside a room where all the walls are mirrors, and every reflection is another thing you have to think about.”

She let the thought drift between them, not pushing for a response.

Instead, she sat back a little more, looking up at the stars in the sky. They always had a way of calming her, a way of reminding her how small she and her problems were in the grand scheme of things. “People don’t always notice when someone’s overwhelmed. They just keep talking, keep expecting.” Her gaze flickered toward the window, toward the muffled thrum of the party inside. “It’s easier to let them think you’re distant than explain.”

Her eyes met his again, searching but not prying. “Does anything help?” It wasn’t an empty question, not a meaningless attempt at small talk. Just quiet curiosity, like she was offering him space to answer—or not—without expectation.

Kit's gaze shifted back to his front and he returned to taking eaven breaths. He knew this was futile to continue doing this and silently cursed himself for being out from home for so long. He was thinking of classwork and what he needed to assign for his next class, about the bpm of the current song playing at the party, also trying to calculate a math equation he'd seen in his head, all the while people at the party continued to try and speak to him. It was too much and he soon found himself needing and wanting to go home.

His brain was still buzzing and he could feel himself slipping mentally. He made a mental note to know that he'd be pretty much be operating on autopilot for the remainder of the week. He couldn't understand her feeling of not being around strangers but it all being too much was something all too familiar for him. He was nodding along to what she said absently before taking a small sigh.

At her question his eyes looked back to her as he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on top of them. "It spins everywhere." His reply coming out bitter and irritated. "I can't control it and I just," he shrugged, "I needed a moment." After a moment he continued. "Most people assume i'm just cold but if my brain is already in overdrive and someone speaks to me on top of it..it just becomes too much to handle."

Jee's jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his expression unreadable, arms crossed over his chest. "And what if I already know that?" His voice was calm, but there was also an edge to it—like he was weighing every word carefully. "What if I don't care?" He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting her gaze. "Maybe I just want to enjoy it while it lasts. Maybe I'm not looking for forever." A small, humourless smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Not everyone gets the kind of love you're talking about, Minnie."

open to: any gender~ ↳ info: minnie, 25, boutique worker

"they're not right for you." she tells the other softly turning around to face them. they had just finished telling her about their upcoming valentines day festivities and while minnie spent that time grinning and baring it, she couldn't keep it in any longer. "they're using your for you status and in a few weeks ... they're gonna toss you aside like they do to everyone else." she explained nervously her voice meek. "you deserve someone who cherishes you for you, and will actually care for you.."

Open to || females only Muse: Casey. 23-27 . straight. he/him pronouns Connection: friends, fwb, anything along these lines

Casey wiped the blood from his lip, the taste of copper metallic in his mouth. He knew he couldn't stay. Not this time. His dad had gone too far. They'd been in fights before -- Casey had experienced broken bones from his father's wrath, but something in the way his dad had looked at him tonight, eyes blazing with a fury that made Casey's skin crawl, was different. His dad had even reached for the knife off of the kitchen table. Casey was sure he'd only been saved because of the knock at the door. He needed to get out, get far away. He thought of his friend, her bright smile and the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. He'd insisted they were just friends, afraid of admitting the truth. But now, with his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach twisting with fear, he knew he had to tell her. "I need you. I need to get away, and I need you to come with me." He didn't know if she'd say yes, but he had to try. The thought of staying, of facing his dad's wrath again, was unbearable.

Spencer gave a shrug not wanting to make a big deal out of the situation, he hated conflict and he'd had enough of it for one night. "What was I meant to do, say no?" He retorted not quite meeting Miguel's eyes, he could already tell he was pissed and he hadn't even told him the full story.

muse: miguel [ 30s, professional boxer ] open to: m only pls! plot: taken from here! your muse was recently dumped and kicked out of his boyfriend's apartment, forcing him to rely upon miguel for help. miguel and your muse being past exes is also an option!

"The fuck you mean he just kicked you out? And you let him?"

I'm still here, and I will do my replies soon -- just having some quiet time as I'm not feeling great atm