Love Begins
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@angelstoker
† ╼ i was tame ( i was gentle ) till the circus life made me mean / "don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth" . who's afraid of little old me? well, you should be . 'cause you lured me . and you hurt me, and you taught me . you caged me and then you called me crazy ! i am what i am 'cause you trained me .
angelica stoker. written by lenny.
intro + wanted connections + pinterest + playlist
closed starter for @fatexcfxophelia
"I don't know... I just think it's a waste of time. I mean, Heath's... Heath," said like the name is synonymous of an explanation she doesn't really offer. There's a duality in the way she wants to be honest—in the way that something in her begs to unravel, to trust her, tell her everything—but she's already decided she can't, hasn't she? It's too risky. "Man's got the emotional maturity of a chocolate chip cookie, but unless you insult his driving skills... he should be pretty harmless," liar, liar, liar; there's this uncomfortable knot in her stomach as the words roll off her tongue too smoothly, too effortlessly—when had it become so easy for her to lie? She still remembers the time she'd cry over stealing from the cookie jar, feel guilty for hiding her grades, count her pennies at the counter because fair was fair, and justice held meaning behind the word. She swallows the bitter feeling in the back of her throat, shrugging. "Why are you so fixated on him, anyways?"
This year, unlike the years before, Selim was looking forward to what the new year would bring him. The blank slate that 2026 currently was excited him into positive thought and only slight apprehension. Something in his gut twisted excitedly despite his need to verify with his own eyes that 2026 would be a good year. So, like many people on this boat, he too was celebrating for the first time in what felt like a decade. They would close more cases, bring justice to those who had been ignored, and fight for a world where everyone could live like they were right now, in celebration.
The ex-agent catches movement near his near empty glass, looking over his shoulder when a woman's voice erupts from the loudness of the crowd. He laughs softly, giving her a playful look. "Don't worry about it, it's just water anyway. If I drink anymore I think the ocean and my dinner might become fast friends. If you catch my drift."
Of course part of her wanted to be like them---the selfish, young, neglected part of her soul that ached for some kind of relief from the years of torment also wanted to be free, to forget, to hope the next year would bring some kind of resolution. But what of her rage? Her grief? She couldn't surgically move it, couldn't pretend to herself as well as she did with others that it wasn't there, that it didn't eat her alive from inside. What was she supposed to do with it?
She knows too much about him—knows too much about most people in this yacht to ever be truly at ease, but she plays her role well. Sometimes even she believes her own lies.
"Are you sure?" she asks, leaning into something playful. "If you hold me by the ankle and dangle me over the ocean, I think I can get some more for you..." she jests lightheartedly in an effort to break through any lingering tension of her faux pas.
"Noo..." the syllables stretch into a soft, whiny note that gradually shatters into a cloying sweet laugh, a hint of girlish desperation as she nudges his shoulder with her inner wrist. "Don't say that—you'll give my stomach ideas."
valentina barely reacted at first, only the slightest pause as she looked down at the glass, then back up at her. no sharp intake of breath, no irritation, just a measured calm that suggested far worse things had happened in her vicinity.
she waved it off lightly. “it’s fine,” she said, steady, reaching to set the glass aside before it became an issue. “trust me, this won’t be the worst thing that’s happened tonight.”
her gaze lingered for a moment longer than polite, not unkind, just observant, catching the tension, the way the apology came a little too fast. “don’t worry about replacing it,” she added, softer now. “looks like you could use a moment more than i need a drink.”
"This is so embarrassing," she rubs the inner part of her wrist against the center of her forehead, as if trying to hide her face; a healthy, dewy glow clinging to her glittery eyelids, the artificial lights catching on the tips of her lashes as she lets out a dry, humorless huff against her own skin. "The ocean and I have a bit of a complicated relationship." like a battered woman eager to smooth out any suspicions, the excuses flow from her tongue in an effortlessly light and sugary lilt.
"No, no, come on... please—I'll feel horrible," she prefaces. "Let me get you a drink, it's the least I can do." she insisted, waving the bartender over like she belonged amidst the crowd.
It might take him a second to make his way back, though; so she shifts her focus back to Valentina, instead. "Rough night?" she asks in a conversational tone. "Don't tell me you also got held hostage by the crypto bros over there?"
open starter bc i got tired sorry
It sickens her to her stomach to see all these people laughing, smiling, enjoying themselves after having washed all the blood off their hands like they could ever be clean; even the clinking of glasses makes her feel nauseated. She wishes she could set this whole damn boat on fire with a match---hell, if she thought she could feasibly pull it off, she'd probably do it. Fuck all of these 'innocent' people, a little voice in the back of her head whispered; how innocent could they be if they were able mingle with this filth so easily? Innocent. No such animal, she thinks, tipping down her glass.
It tastes... wrong.
"Shit," she nearly chokes, looking down, realizing she'd picked up the wrong drink—blinking, as if unwitting, shrinking herself down into something passive. "Shit—I'm so sorry," she's quick to apologize. "I didn't mean to—I'll get you another one."
closed starter / @audrasmythe
Sometimes, she's afraid of catching a glimpse of her own reflection in store windows, or her own bathroom mirror, and seeing something, someone she can't recognize; she avoids looking into reflective surfaces if she can help, avoids looking into the water, focusing on the horizon instead, plain and endless and void, the stars clear and bright as they'd always been, away from the city's pollution.
There's little in her life which isn't calculated, intentional, and it all feels like a bit of an orchestration as she turns—wind tangled amidst her brown hair, sanctified beneath the pale moonlight. "You really don't wanna go back there, it's a battlefield," she warns with a playful smile on her lips before extending the bottle dangling from her hand. "Wanna share? I can't finish this whole thing on my own, anyways."
Angel, NYC 2025 2026
Camila Queiroz as Júlia Guimarães ↳ SCARS OF BEAUTY / BELEZA FATAL (2025)
The Jumping Jack Powerplant was terrifying by nature, and abandoned by chance. That is, until the Syndicate reclaimed for their own, radioactive business.
As any respectable murderer, Lee prefers to work in the night — shadows covering his tracks down the alleys of Brooklyn. Now, he finds himself alone at the Powerplant, smoking imported cigarettes and toying with the idea of finding a pretty thing at the bar, bringing said pretty thing home, and turning the rest of the night into bloody history.
Then, her.
An unrecognizable face, at least from this angle — especially now, that Lee positions himself behind her.
Anytime, now.
Three, two—
"Boo."
She actually jolts on the spot as her head whips backwards, and feels her heart jump in her throat as if it wanted to do the same. "—Jesus," she clutches the small, silver crucifix pendant dangling down her collarbone out of habit, and the sight of him brings no comfort—the opposite. "Hey—it's you!" she sounds excited; right before her expression dampens. "Hey—it's you," it sounds accusatory now; of all things that go bumping in the night in New York, this is the last one she wanted to come across, at night, alone—or maybe she was just hoping for this. She hadn't quite decided yet.
Her hand swings to thwack him in the arm with a huff of barely contained frustration. "You scared me half to death!" her hand drops gradually as she scolds him, spinning on her heels to face the man that might as well have been the boogeyman to her; he's too close, and her heart is beating so hard it hurts. Her body wants to go into freeze mode, but she pushes through the crippling dread, carding her fingers through her hair with a sigh of relief she doesn't really feel.
"...Is everything okay?" she smooths down the place she'd thwacked, flashing those impossibly round doe eyes up, filled with concern. "I thought I heard something... are you okay?" the meager light cutting through the polluted skies of the city only seem to emphasize how terrifying he is from up close. "I only have my designer heels to fend off thugs, but I guess I could make it work..."
Location: Somewhere she's not supposed to be ig <3 go wild For: Open <3
Dead phone, broken car, broken heel---it has all the trademarks of an cheap, low budget horror movie. Exhausted final girl just trying to get home included. She was never a big fan of horror movies, all that blood and gore felt a little too real when you dealt with it everyday, but growing up—sometimes they were the only thing she thought she could relate to, and she wondered, as those girls made it out of the burning building, or the decrepit old house, limping and bruised, if they ever wished maybe they hadn't.
Was it worth it? Carrying all that? What was left of them after the credits rolled?
It was late, and her keys were tucked between her knuckles, but she had no choice other than to go ask for help; or maybe she could wait for someone else to drive by 'till morning, but she was never one for standing still. Perhaps there was a part of her that had been waiting—anticipating, bumping into a serial killer or axe murderer. Get her adrenaline pumping. Thrill junkie.
Click-clack, her one good heel clicked sharply against the crisp pavement at an uneven rhythm, matching the beat of her own heavy heart. The shadows felt thicker here, producing an unsettling echo against the vacant streets, that for once felt too empty. Most types of crime reach their peak hours between 4-7 p.m, it's fine. She's fine. She tried to soothe herself, but even the cockroaches had left, and for once she wished she wasn't so alone.
When she heard voices, she's didn't know whether she should feel relieved or more worried—isn't this the time things go bumping in the night? A silly thought. It was something, or someone, though, and the little devil on her shoulder begged her to investigate. She wouldn't shout 'hello' into the void—that was too damn cliché. She approached cautiously instead, doe eyes skimming for... well, something.
Trouble, maybe?
What's the matter with you? Her brain argues back to her. Just turn around... go back into the car.
She hid behind the wall instead, just strategically out of view, a pair of round, wet brown eyes peeking into the darkness.
Just go back to the damn car, Laura!
Something in her chest tightened, she turned around and then— "Jesus Christ—!" the religious indoctrination always seemed to jumped out when her hackles were up. "You almost gave me a heart attack..."
tell me what you're thinking right now. (for hans)
✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ MAKINGDEMANDS ...[REMASTERED]
"I don't know... rainbows and unicorns?" A boldfaced lie. "My sweet sixteen?" she actually never had that. "That I probably double parked, and I'm for sure getting a ticket? Whatever kind of vapid shit girls usually think about..." which truth be told, she only ever learned from the movies, but if she sticks with it, she might even convince herself that it's true. Truthfully, there's ever only one thing in her mind, and it's neither pleasant nor easy to talk about.
"What are you thinking about? —No, wait, I know... you're thinking..." she closes her eyes, pretending to connect to the otherworldly powers that be. "'However am i gonna get away with spoiling my little girl so much that I'm always the favorite'..." she peeks out of one eye, playfully. "So... am I close or am I close?"
Camila Queiroz as Júlia Guimarães ↳ SCARS OF BEAUTY / BELEZA FATAL (2025)
"stop looking at me like that."
✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ MAKINGDEMANDS ...[REMASTERED]
"Like what?" it's airy and sweet, the kind of sweet that gives you cavities and before you know all of your teeth are aching and rotten; the feigned ignorance rolls easily off her tongue, a pair of doe eyes twinkling idly with mischief dressed as girlish innocence, her soft, gauzy lashes, fluttering her way as if unwitting.
Like what? Like she wants something? Doesn't she always when she comes around? Admittedly, men are often easier to sway, but not always easier to manage.
"With my eyes?" funny. She thinks so, anyways. "Well, they're eyes, I can't do anything about that."
✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ MAKING DEMANDS ... [ REMASTERED ] ( a collection of various original dialogue prompts centered around posing requests / demands. adjust phrasing / gendered terms as necessary. )
memorize my coffee order, already!
quit fidgeting, you look suspicious.
stop comparing yourself, it's pointless.
give yourself a minute, [ name ]. you need rest.
don't move ... a single muscle.
can you teach me how to do that?
order room service – let's be lazy today.
pull out your ID, they card everyone here.
pack light, we'll be walking for awhile.
stop second guessing yourself.
don't say another word.
show me what you've been working on.
we're already late, can you hurry?!
we don't have time for this, [ name ].
just take the compliment, okay?
don't you dare just leave me here.
quit being so stubborn about this.
relax, i've got everything handled.
turn up the music! i love this song.
take my jacket, i'm not asking.
give me your hand, let's take a walk.
order whatever you want, it's my treat.
stop picking fights when you're tired.
meet me tonight ... our spot.
loosen up, quit being so serious all the time.
stay awake, you might have a concussion.
just let yourself be happy for once.
you have to stop sabotaging yourself.
tell me why you're really here.
drop your [ weapon / gun / knife ]!
quit trying to change the subject.
just breathe with me for a minute. in, out.
follow me and stay close.
just be yourself, [ name ]. that's all i want.
call me when you get home safe.
don't beg, it's pathetic.
stop trying to fix everyone else's problems.
can you [ tie / zip ] this for me?
stop lying to me. tell me what you did.
put that down, you don't know what it is.
tell me what you're thinking right now.
stay quiet until i figure this out.
tell me something i don't know about you.
come dance with me.
get out of my sight.
wear the [ item ] i bought you tonight.
take my arm, those heels look dangerous.
let me drive – you can enjoy the scenery.
can you stop hovering?
wait ...! hold still, i want to take a picture.
keep your hands where i can see them.
stop pretending you know what's going on.
find a first-aid kit. quickly!
you can't tell anyone what you saw.
take a nap, i'll wake you for dinner.
keep your voice down, they'll hear us.
don't you dare lie to me.
take the scenic route, we're not in a rush.
tell me a story from when you were little.
answer your phone when i call you.
give me your jacket, i'm freezing.
don't get yourself killed.
tell me what you see when you look at yourself.
tell me what you see when you look at me.
stop being so modest about your achievements!
leave them to me, just go.
just admit that you love me.
just admit that you hate me.
come here, let me look at you.
don't listen to them, they don't know what they're talking about.
[ name ], don't make me do this.
drop your [ weapon ].
stay here and wait for my signal.
don't just sit there, move.
take this and run, don't let anyone have it.
pretend you're my [ partner / gf / bf ].
don't look , you'll give us away.
stay with me, don't drift off.
stop pretending like you care.
go make sure the coast is clear.
take this with you. it's a good luck charm.
don't tell anyone about this.
if anybody asks about today, lie.
stop looking at me like that.
tell me you love me.
just kiss me, already.
talk to me in [ language ].
keep your eyes on the road.
stop crying and calm down.
give me one chance to explain.
come with me. there's so much we could do.
wear the [ dress / tie / item ] i gave you tonight.
show me how you like to be touched.
hold my hand.
kiss me, make it look real.
look at me. how many fingers am i holding up?
[ name ] ... will you marry me?
just slow down for a minute. what's going on?
take a deep breath, you need to calm down.
get out of here, [ name ]!
draw your weapon.
go rest. i'm not asking.
take a step back.
keep your promise for once.
quit assuming you know what i'm thinking.
give me a straight answer.
be polite to our guests.
look me in the eye and say that again.
put your feelings aside for a moment.
keep close to me.
here, let me see that.
look up at the sky.
run ... run and don't stop!
get out of here, i don't want to see you right now.
stand up, this isn't over yet.
close your eyes and count to ten.
keep your head down and keep moving.
[ name ], let me past.
listen carefully to what i'm about to say.
don't just stare, come in.
stop laughing, this isn't funny.
take this and hide it from me.
don't make a sound.
the sidewalk is slippery, give me your hand.
quit causing problems everywhere you go.
just admit that you don't know what you're doing.
stop right there, i mean it.
don't say that name aloud.
just trust me, okay?
stop acting so childish.
call the police. now.
tell me you love me, even if it's not real.
take a good hard look.
stop the car, [ name ].
let me walk you to your [ door / car ].
almost done, just give me five more minutes!
don't make eye contact.
stay out of trouble.
let me see that beautiful smile again.
just do it already, we've waited long enough.
hold me tight, and never let me go.
finish what you started.
tell me what you know.
quit being so melodramatic.
just stay away from me.
turn around. slowly.
don't be scared.
put it down before somebody gets hurt.
stop pretending , i'm tired of the pretending.
grab me my [ item ], will you?
don't make assumptions.
put this over it to stop the bleeding.
get to safety! i'll be right behind you!
stay the night, i hate sleeping alone.
wipe that look off your face.
keep an eye on them.
look at yourself in the mirror.
eat. you haven't touched your food in days.
Noah laughs at the other wildly, clutching her stomach and bending at the waist. Not because of the face she made, rather because it was always unusual to watch someone so respectable and seemingly put-together make such a silly face. It was freeing. This woman Noah looked up to was being goofy in ways that made her feel safe and comfortable and Noah nearly couldn't believe it. Her laugh harbored layers of excitement, humor, and relief all in one melodic sound.
"Ugh," she groans, tossing her head back. "I know it wasn't a call out, but it totally felt like one. That's so true. They should invent a hot man that doesn't induce anxiety," she jokes. She waves off the other, shoulders still periodically shaking through errant giggles. "Fine, fine! It didn't count. No questions count unless they pertain to the individual in question. Ground rules," she declares, lifting her glass as if that would somehow make things official. She sips from it, nearly spilling it over the lip of the glass as she is hit with inspiration. "I know! Tell me the thing you've been dying to talk about, but no one has asked the right questions to get it out of you yet."
In her experience, men are only good for one thing: heartbreak. Yes, even the good ones. "No such animal." Her cynical tongue can't help drawl, the words muffled against the fogged rim of her glass. "But hey, if you ever find one-take a picture, will you? I'll want proof." she jests with that slightly tipsy playfulness that only comes out with a harsh push from the alcohol in her system begging her walls to come down just an inch.
She squints her beady little brown eyes like a suspicious doe waiting for the predator to pounce from the bushes, and as the attack never follows she smiles, skeptical, but curious, as she lifts her glass to solidify their gesture—"Deal." a reluctant agreement with a dash of hesitation, just enough to sound earnest, the believable concession of someone willing to partake in party games; the truth was, telling the truth mattered very little to her nowadays. Whatever moral pedestal she used to stand on her long been dismantled. The truth isn't this bright, shiny thing most people want it to be. If life had taught her anything these last few years, is that you're usually better off with a really good lie.
She waits, as if thinking thoroughly, then bobs her head decisively: "My paycheck." a beat, her lips curve conspiratorially. "Seriously. I really wanna get a cat. How come I don't get an extra for being called 'excuse me' twice a day?"
Is it her turn yet? She'll take any pause as an invitation; after all she never got to ask first. "Tell me something, then... how come you're the only genuinely nice person in that whole TV network?"
