Today's Document
Xuebing Du
oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
KIROKAZE
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Product Placement
Not today Justin
titsay
⁂
Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
No title available
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
seen from Sweden
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Sweden
seen from North Macedonia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Colombia
seen from North Macedonia
seen from North Macedonia
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Sweden
seen from Germany
seen from North Macedonia
seen from Sweden
seen from North Macedonia
seen from Malaysia
seen from North Macedonia
@gamecfchance
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ─── 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
hi there! i'm haley, twenty-five, and in the est timezone. i'd say my activity is low to medium as i am just getting back into tumblr roleplaying. semi-selective. discord available upon request. rules under the cut.
muses (mobile friendly, formal muse page wip)* ─ wanted plots * ─ wanted opposites * ─ open starters
looking to join a secrets/horror rp on discord with some fun writers who love angsty plots and character development? give me a like and i'll send it over to you :)
if any of my mutuals would be interested in joining a small town secrets/slasher rp on discord, feel free to message me 👀 trying to keep it relatively exclusive but am definitely looking to add some dedicated, amazing writers into the mix!
if any of my mutuals would be interested in joining a small town secrets/slasher rp on discord, feel free to message me 👀 trying to keep it relatively exclusive but am definitely looking to add some dedicated, amazing writers into the mix!
penny doesn’t respond at first. there’s too much swelling in her chest, too many words tangled somewhere between her ribs and her throat, too much that could come out wrong if she rushes it. she looks at drew — really looks — and it almost breaks her. because despite everything, despite the silence and the confusion and the ache that’s been her constant companion for the past two weeks, she still feels it. that pull. that unshakeable gravity that keeps drawing her back to this person no matter how many times she tries to build walls around her heart. “do you know how cruel it was?” she finally says, voice soft but shaking. “not what you did before. not the past. not the cheating.” a pause. her eyes sting, and she blinks hard, willing the tears to wait. “i’m talking about this. you just — disappeared. without warning. after everything we’ve been through. after all the work i had done to get to a point where i’ve been dancing around the idea of us again. letting you back in.. and i know it wasn’t about me or you trying to hurt me, not directly, but god, drew, it did.” her arms cross, more for grounding than defense. “i gave you space. because i thought maybe something had happened. that maybe you needed time. and i didn’t want to be the person who made it worse by crowding you. but every single day that went by without hearing from you — it started to feel less like you needed space and more like you’d decided i didn’t need to be kept. like you’d just… left. again.” she shakes her head, correcting herself. “no. not again. because you don’t do that. you don’t disappear. not like this. that’s why it hurt so much. because it’s not who you are — at least not who i thought you were anymore.”
she swallows the lump in her throat, pushing forward before the emotion chokes her off completely. “and then you walk in here like a hurricane in parkers flannel and a bandeau, making jokes and sniffing candles, like my brain hasn’t been chewing itself alive. i thought something happened to you, drew. i thought maybe everything that has happened lately was something you started to regret and you just didn’t know how to say it. or worse — that you were hurting and didn’t think you could come to me. that part nearly destroyed me.” she sinks back onto the couch, her knees pulled up, arms wrapping around them. “i don’t want to keep doing this push-and-pull every time life gets hard. i don’t want to be an afterthought, or a burden, or the person who gets left behind when everything gets too loud. i want to be someone you trust enough to stay with — even when it’s messy. especially when it’s messy.” a breath. “i believe in second chances, drew. i believe people can change. that they do change. and i let you back in because i felt like we were building something again. something good. something real. and i want to believe that wasn’t just me romanticizing the ruins. i want to believe this still matters to you.” she finally looks up at her again, eyes tired but clear. “but i need you to be honest with me. not just tonight. not just when it’s dramatic and everything’s falling apart. i need you to show up — and stay. because i don’t know how to give any less than all of me. and if i do that again… i need to know you won’t go quiet. and i need to know i’m not making the biggest mistake of my life when i say that i will always, wholeheartedly be yours. after everything, you’re all i want and all i’ll ever want.”
"i don't know how many times i can say it." drew finally snaps. after penny's heartfelt confession, she can hardly keep it in. a thread within her severs. the last sliver of rope pulling taut and creaking until it unravels entirely. she's chewed on penny's words, tasted their bitterness and digested them. but as tensions rise, the bile comes up right along with it. all she can do is expel her boldest, innermost thoughts. "i'll be here, okay? i'll stay. i know i've fucked up. do you just like -- do you get off hearing me admit it?" drew circles the counter to create considerable space between herself and penny. the physical divide is certainly representative of the one that is blurring the line between them. the greatest point of contention between the two of them. penny's anxieties and drew's tendencies to toe the line between wanting to fix things and wanting to be free. it's not fair for either of them to be on this see-saw of opposition. then why can neither of them get off the ride? it may seem like drew is completely disregarding all of penny's concerns, that each and every syllable goes in one ear and right out the other. but they hadn't. instead every word ricochets off the walls of drew's mind like an idle dvd screen. and when one thought hits the corner of her brain, a new thought pops off. "obviously this all still matters to me, i wouldn't come back here with my tail between my legs every time if it didn't. we're both fucking battered and burdened. you're upset over what i did and what i continue to do. and i'm upset over what i've done and continue to do, it's a vicious cycle." the fridge door swings open and the blonde grabs the milk that is sitting unexpectantly on the door. she plops it loudly on the counter, the plastic jug sinking in on itself at the bottom upon impact. busy bodied, the girl walks over and fills the tea kettle as her thoughts continue to race. "what'd you say? i'm a hurricane. yeah -- i'm a hurricane. i come, i tear through the fucking place, and we try to rebuild and repair. you can either move away or get a raincoat and weather the storm --" the tea kettle is placed on the stove with a screech and the flame beneath it flickers to life. her voice breaks slightly as she raises her voice. "because i don't know how to fix me. i can make all the promises i want but i don't know how to -- god, i don't know. stop.. being a monumental fuck up?" the tea kettle is whistling before drew can even register how much time has passed. her frantic hands flip the cabinet doors open and closed, open and closed. she quickly realizes that she doesn't know where the mugs are anymore. how much has changed about this place. how once finding the mugs was second nature and now it's a disorienting quest. it become clear -- once things were so easy for them. as common as breathing. and now things had changed -- and this quest to get back to familiarity was a wild one neither of them knew how to navigate. tears are brimming the corners of her eyes as she cuts the heat on the kettle, utterly giving up on the search for the mugs. "i'm messy. i'm cruel. i make jokes. and i've changed and i don't know if it's for the better. i try to be honest. i try to stay -- i try to be here. but it fucking sucks to be reminded or everything i've done wrong.. every single time i look at you. and i'm not looking for your sympathy. it's entirely my fault. i love you. and you love me. but it's fucking destroying us."
it's all a little cinematic. the way the two of them talked about traumatic experiences and immediately after seemed to fall into flirting without missing a beat makes morgan breathe a laugh at her phone. tini's icon smiles back at her and she reads the last line of tini's reply. "what?!" she says out loud, a grin on her face. "scandalous…" morgan jokes to herself. "what if we both share?" her thumb taps the send arrow quick enough that she can't take it back, even if she wants to. thoughtless. the blonde has an arsenal of spicy photos, ones she rarely sends out. it's always a risk. she's made it through enough of her career without her nudes appearing online, and she doesn't intend for them to. for some reason, morgan feels the need to take a photo of herself now instead of a generic stock photo she has saved. an original -- for two reasons. the first, tini deserves it an individual photo for herself. the second, if tini ended up leaking her photos (she's hoping and praying her instincts are right and tini is, in fact, a good person) morgan would be able to tell who did it. her hands reach for the hem of her sleep shirt, tugging at the loose material and pulling it up over her head. it slips from her fingertips to the floor, revealing a navy blue lingerie set. it seems silly to be wearing something so nice by herself, but morgan spent enough time alone to know that sometimes she just needs to feel pretty to someone, even if it's herself. she poses on her bed, one ankle crossed over the other and snaps a photo in her vanity mirror. she's sure to keep her face out of the picture. the only telling detail remaining is a few tendrils of blonde hair on her shoulder. she presses the send button quickly, before typing, "just a taste."
the image that flashes across her screen causes her breath to hitch. tini is immediately shooting upright to observe the attachment in its glory. the pale skin shadowed by the night sky. the blonde hair that plays peek-a-boo makes her grin, a sliver into the identity of the person on the other end of the tether. the thrum of her heartbeat pounds against her rib cage and the trill of it all makes her gleefully smile. "tasteful." is all she can think to reply as she searches her mind for an idea of what could even come close to the ethereal image gracing her screen. tini rises clumsily from her head, legs quite defiant as her head is sent reeling. the redhead kicks off her oversized sweatpants and adjust her thong on her hips. they're a typical gray, from the target five pack pair. so she has to find a way to a make them suitable for the exchange. she hikes them up so the accentuate the curvature of her ass. looking over her shoulder in the mirror, tini silently deems it a success. a waterfall of auburn cascades down her back as she releases the teeth of her claw clip. she then slips her tank top over her head until she's just standing her underwear. the breeze makes self conscious goosebumps bubble to the surface and tini grins at the thrill. the camera app flashes across her screen and she holds the phone above her so the mirror can be seen at her back. the front facing angle is perfectly highlighting the jut of her ass in the full length mirror. she tilts the phone and presses her tits together with the help of her arm. cleavage pops up at the bottom corner of the screen. when the camera snap, tini can hardly recognize the body as her own. she send it before she can second guess herself. "all for you." drunk on the infatuation, the girl types. "i think you did it better, though. is it weird i'm just imaging what you look like behind that phone? don't get me wrong, definitely appreciating your body. but.. is too intimate to say i want more?"
her breath catches somewhere between her ribs and her throat, his words sinking in too deep for her to ignore. sage had come in prepared to chew him out, make him understand that she didn't need saving. but with rome standing close enough to touch, his hands raised in defeat, any fight left in her begins to dissolve. there’s a moment where she doesn’t say anything, the grip of her fingers solidifying against the back of the chair because it’s the one sure thing tethering her to the ground. understanding tides over her in waves and she realizes... he’s not just protecting her. he's scared of what might happen to her. brown hues drift up to meet his, and it’s all there. in the back of her mind, hidden beneath the floorboards, she had swept any potential feelings for him that weren't platonic. brushed them under a rug, unwilling to confront the possibility. he was only ever a friend, right? but now, she wasn't so sure, the invisible string between them feeling all too present than ever before. "i never said i didn’t need you", she whispers, a tremor in her throat. "i just didn’t want needing you to hurt." she blinks, trying to will the heat behind her eyes away. "and you scare me, rome... not because i think you’d hurt me, but because when you look at me like that, i don’t know where the line is anymore." a second passes, layered with so many thoughts she doesn’t know how to put into words. "don’t go."
rome stands frozen, the weight of her words settling in like a storm cloud, thick and heavy in the air between them. his heart sprints as he processes the tremor in her voice, the raw honesty of what she’s said. he wonders if maybe he’s been reading the situation all wrong. his hand lowers, fingertips grazing the edge of the chair where her grip has tightened. he steps forward, a breath catching in his own throat, struggling to keep the distance that has always felt like a comfort, but now, it feels more like a barrier. he's looking down at her, their faces mere inches apart. her soft words brush against his skin and he can't back away from the warmth of her breath and the fire in her words. "you don't have to be brave." it comes out as a vow. "look at me. this," their connection. so blurred, the line between protective friendship and something much deeper. it causes his voice to drop to her same whispered pitch. "scares the fuck out of me. that's why i did what i did. to have someone el -- to have someone grab you. i couldn't be passive." someone else. it almost ricochets off his lips and the presence of mere syllable shows his hands. he's hooked. with the tension riding high between them, he hardly knows what the right move is here. to let things be, to see where things go. his brows cock at her, the distance highlighting his next words. "you want me to stay? right here?"
truth be told when she'd taken the call, it was harder to lie than she thought. she simply couldn't risk anyone finding out that she'd been involved with the likes of someone with such lawbreaking tendencies. she was sure that he could hear her heels clicking against the floors as she made her way towards the interrogation room that he'd been stationed in. a breath escapes gloss coated lips as the door opens, and rome sat chained to the table. little did she know such heartbreak could be found in her profession. blue eyes shoot him a glare as he calls her by name, manicured finger raising to scold him. "watch yourself, mr. saxton. we wouldn't want anyone thinking you're more than just a headache for me." she then took a seat at the table across from him, placing her belongings on top of it. cocky tilt of blonde head to the side as she began, "must you always land yourself in these places? - it's annoying to work on the weekend."
"oh, so i'm more than just a headache to you? things must be getting serious." rome's tired eyes peer up at her through heavy lids. it gives him a second wind to see her despite his exhaustion. even just the sight of her relaxes his body in a way he can't quite explain. and the fact that she'd come to his rescue -- though he'd never give her that much credit -- excites him. he silently thinks about how strategic he'd have to be to lean over the table and press his mouth to hers. but rome refrains and instead memorized the flutter of her soft lashes that eclipse her oceanic hues. "and what weekend plans was i interrupting? beside wondering where i am." rome challenges. "they took my phone but i imagine i have more than a few texts from you. where are you? are you with another bitch? i swear if she's brunette, i'll cut your dick off." rome relaxes against the metal chair for the first time since sitting in it. he's in a white tee shirt, gold chain threaded down the front of his chest, strangling chest hairs popping out at the top of his neckline. he looks like the type of guy who belongs here. and blair looks like the kind of girl who would see him, clutch her purse and run. but she showed up for him. "does that sound about right, blair? or are you going to unsend the message before i have the chance to look for myself?"
♡ — closed starter for @gamecfchance.
cassia's bored. in fact, she's been bored for a few days. cassia has so many acquaintances but very few true friends. she's come to see maura as a friend, often going out with her until the wee hours of the morning, trying any drug they can get their grubby little hands on. cassia truly never laughs as much with anyone. naturally, when maura went into hibernation for a few days, cassia couldn't have it. she's pounding on maura's door, and this isn't an unusual scenario. "bitch! come on --" she knocks again. "i know you love a nap but this is a coma! i have… presents." she pauses, but then hits her head against the door softly a few times. "maura... i'm so lonely. let me come back, wifey. i promise i won't look at them other girls ever again!" she feigns a fake southern accent. one can almost hear the pout that tugs at her lips from her voice alone. "baby come back..." cassia sings softly against the door before letting out a chuckle. "just let me in, girl, i don't care what your apartment looks like."
she'd gone too hard last night. she shouldn't have trusted the blue tablet that some random man at the dive had offered her. she certainly she shouldn't have chased it with three shots of tequila either. headache reeling, maura can hardly keep her eyes open when she hears a rapid knocking on the door. there was only one person it could be, one person bold enough to disturb her slumber. maura wraps herself in a blanket cocoon and haunts her way over to the door, a ghoulish wash of color plaguing her features as she fears she might hurl. "bitch, shut the fuck up." maura remarks. she always mean she was tired. curls are spouting off in a million different directions, and maura can tell by the draft she's like showcasing a nip slip. "your present better be some intervenes electrolytes and an eight ball." the girl spins around and leaves the door open in her path before collapsing horizontally on the couch, face down in the pillow as she mumbles. "you're like the grim reaper. put me out of my misery."
open: m/nb | about savannah | pov: broken up, but can't seem to stay away.
it had been about two months since their nastiest break up to date, one that left neither of them with closure, and neither of them with the ability to speak civil - both swearing that this was the last time. blocked numbers, erased photos, trying to rid herself of any memory that he might've been able to leave. beating heart fell from her chest just as blue eyes shifted to the phone in her lap. the audible ringing and bright letters read NO CALLER ID; she all but knew exactly who was calling. manicured finger hovered over decline, but in an instant glossed lips mumbled. "- and what do you want?"
gio was pushing his luck tonight. perhaps the win had him riding a high. he could have taken home any girl in the stadium, or found another girl willing at the after party. but, why was savannah the only thing on his mind? typing her address into the uber app was second nature. and now he sat on the curb opposite her apartment, phone pressed to his ear. her voice immediately breaks a smile across his mouth as he hums, "you know exactly what i want." giovanni is searching her apartment's windows for any sign of life. she has to be home. "apologize for acting crazy and this can be all over. but i'm not coming over unless i hear you say it."
working on replies, y'all boutta be sick of me i have sm muse and the whole night off
sage understands the risks involved in what she does for a living. she's well-informed on what exactly the men who walk through those doors are looking for from her. she’s spent years perfecting this dance — how to walk the line between power and vulnerability, making them think they’re in control while she bleeds their pockets dry. it’s a game, one she’s played and won more times than she can count. but it's obvious that rome sees her as something worth protecting, and maybe that should make her feel good, but all it does is piss her off. because if he doesn’t believe she can handle herself, then what the hell has she been fighting for? "you can't trust me? or you won't?" her voice cuts through like a blade drawn but she doesn’t let the anger fueling through her veins overtake her. "rome, i know what these men want... i know how they look at me. they're convinced that a handful of dollar bills entitles them to more than a show. but that’s the difference between you and me. you're making me out to be some victim, when i'm not. i'm outplaying these men every night i work here by doing my fucking job." her hand finds its way to her hip, firmly lodging it there as she forces herself to inhale through her nose. she doesn't want to blow a gasket in the club, not right after she lost a client. she looks rome in the eye, lips pursing together. "you can’t sit here forever, waiting for something to go wrong. and when it does? what then? do you throw fists every time someone forgets the rules? do you decide when i need protection and when i don’t?" her other free hand take hold of the edge of the seat across from him, needing to anchor herself to something solid. "you think you’re doing the right thing, but all you’re doing is making me feel like i don’t know what the hell i’m doing. and if that’s the case, then maybe you don’t know me at all." and that’s what stings the most... because she thought he did. she thought, of all people, rome saw her for who she really was.
"i can't. because if you think that these men are nothing but pawns, you don't know how to play the game." he doesn't doubt her logic. can't deny the skillful way in which she swindles these men. but rome can truly only see them for what they are. unapologetic, hungry sharks. it didn't matter how cunning you are, to men like them, blood was blood; and they'd do anything to see you bleed. rome had learned the lesson firsthand when he'd begun in his profession. but his skin had grown thicker. from where he sits, sage looks so fragile to him. perhaps that was an underestimation on his part due to his instinct to protect her. rome takes in her words and they piercing his chest in a way he doesn't expect. "i'm not going to play god," he raises his hands in defeat like a white flag brushed by a soft wind. "if you want me to go, i'll never come back. but i will not apologize for what happens if i catch wind of something happening here again. that, out there, that was me playing easy." rome crosses the floor to her, peering down as a soft sigh trails his whisky soaked mouth. his head hovers over hers, the height of her heels bringing them a bit closer than he anticipates. his soft words do not match his hardened features as he challenges, "so tell me you want me to go. tell me you don't need me. if you can take care of yourself so well, set this boundary with me right now. say the word and i will leave, sage."
the moment drew starts talking — actually talking, beyond the bullshit, beyond the deflections — something tightens in penny’s chest, pulling taut like a wire about to snap. it’s almost cruel, how easily drew’s honesty, her rare vulnerability, still manages to slip beneath penny’s skin, still has the power to rattle her when she’s spent so much time trying to build walls against it. but she’s always known this about herself — about them. that drew could make her want to scream one second and crumble the next. she exhales, slow and shaky, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes before letting them fall to her sides. she’s so tired. tired of worrying. tired of trying to make sense of the mess drew leaves in her wake. "drew…" her voice isn’t sharp anymore, not biting — just hollow. worn. "you disappeared. just — just vanished. and you know what’s fucked? i spent two weeks trying to rationalize it. trying to come up with some kind of reason that would make it make sense. blaming myself.. because that’s what i do.. i blame myself. for every mishap, i think i am the root of every problem.. and it’s fucking exhausting." her arms cross over her chest, but it’s not anger fueling the motion — it’s an instinctive, futile attempt to hold herself together. "and then you just walk in here, cracking jokes, acting like it’s nothing, and i — " her voice cuts off, trembling under the weight of it all. "i don’t know what you expect from me. do you want me to pretend it’s fine? because i can’t do that." drew clutches the pillow to her chest, and it’s almost too much to look at. the way she holds onto it like a lifeline, like if she lets go, she might just disappear again. penny hates that a part of her still aches at the sight. hates that no matter how furious she is, there’s still something inside her that wants to reach for her. "and look," her voice drops, quieter now, not quite as sharp. "i know it’s not my place to worry anymore. but fuck… and i know it’s not all about me."
then drew says it. make it up to me. and something inside penny breaks. she meets drew’s gaze, raw and unguarded, her own vision blurring at the edges. "make it up to me?" her breath hitches, and she blinks, like that might somehow clear the storm behind her eyes. her body feels too heavy, like she’s sinking under the weight of everything she’s been holding in. "it’s not about making anything up." her voice is quieter now, the anger simmering into something heavier, something deeper. "nothing you say — nothing you do — is ever going to erase what you did. there is nothing in this world that can make me forget how little you made me feel. how unwanted and fucking pathetic you made me feel." the words hurt to say. hurt to admit. but they hang in the air between them, undeniable. penny crosses the room, sinking onto the opposite couch, the space between them stretching wider than ever. she licks her bottom lip, trying to steady her thoughts, trying to find the words when everything inside her is screaming. "but look…" her voice wavers. she closes her eyes for a moment before searching for drew’s again. " wewouldn’t be here if i didn’t think i it was something we, or i could work past." she lets the truth settle between them, lets it linger in the silence. "there’s a reason i keep coming back to you. a reason i let you in when you come back to me. even when every part of me is screaming that it’s a mistake. even when i’ve spent hours trying to convince myself that you don’t deserve a second chance." she swallows hard, curling her legs up on the couch, her elbow bracing against the back of it as she wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "but i do believe people deserve more than one chance. even when i don’t want to. even when everything inside me tells me i shouldn’t."her breath stutters, and suddenly, saying the words out loud feels like taking a blade to her own ribs. "god," she exhales, a laugh breaking through — but it’s bitter, humorless. "it goes against every fucking principle i have to even imagine keeping someone in my life who cheated on me. saying it out loud? it sounds insane." she stares at the ceiling for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths before she finally looks at drew again. her eyes are glassy, voice on the edge of breaking. "but i don’t — i can’t — imagine my life without you." the confession feels like a betrayal of herself. a white flag she never intended to raise. "but i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to trust you again." her voice drops to a whisper.
drew’s hands tremble, unknowing if it’s from the weight of the confession penny has just laid bare or the excruciating clarity that comes with hearing everything penny’s been carrying. she's not ignorant to burdens she causes, the mess she leaves in her wake. but to be reminded of her shortcomings never gets easier. her chest tightens, suffocating her under the heavy truth of it all. she wants to speak, wants to apologize, to make it right somehow -- but the words feel too small, too useless in the face of what she’s done. instead, all she can do is look at penny, the rawness of the moment cutting deeper than any act of harm she could have committed against herself. penny's words are still ringing in her ears, each one heavier than the last, and drew can feel the guilt gnawing at her. it makes her want to bolt again. but she can’t. no more coward's game.
"i'm not going to lie to you. not anymore." this isn't a bullshit vow. not a promise that be seamlessly debunked in a day's time but rather an opening line to her inner monologue. "what i expect from you is for you to worry. that's what you do. you drown yourself in baths, and tea, and candles, and wicked, and worry. i expect that. i also expect the tears. cruelly, i expect the forgiveness. i know it doesn't come easily but it always does with time. it's fucked up for me to expect it. but that's just who you are." drew rubs the day's old mascara from her eyes. she likely looks exhausted, defeated by the repercussions of her own actions. penny's plush sofa has never looked so comfortable. everything about this place makes her haunted. no wonder each time she returns she's reminded of her mistakes.
and all of her expectations are proven right at penny's confession. the words sound like they're being spoken in a chapel. soft, asking for forgiveness for the sin of being too forgiving. it feels like they're in an alcoholic's anonymous meeting. except penny is addicted to drew -- and drew is addicted to fucking up. drew’s eyes flicker back up to penny’s, and for the first time in a long time, there’s no deflection, no shields, just the painful truth. "i don’t know how to fix this. i don’t know how to fix me. but, i’m here. i know i disappeared --" drew releases a breath she'd been holding on account of penny's words. she wouldn't have been surprised if her features had washed purple. "but you're so brilliant. i read all the playbill reviews and i was fuckin' smiling ear to ear. because to know you - to see you is to be absolutely enamored by you. how am i ever supposed to feel like i deserve you when i've never done one thing right?" the distance between them closes as drew crosses the floor, lacing a stray hair behind penny's ear. "you're a star, pen. you don't need me to tell you that. but you need to believe it yourself. you need to believe that you deserve more than this." white teeth chew and fiddle nervously at her lower lip. "but on the off chance, you do realize it and make the reckless decision to love me anyways. i'm here. i'll always be here. even if it's by carrier pigeon or up in the god damn sky, i'm here. and i'm yours. even if you're not mine."
closed for @cherrygrxves
metal handcuff link clink against the table like a beggar's cup for change. a beckon for someone, anyone, to let him out. officers had been weaving in and out of the room. he had to admit their line of questioning and constant shift change was disorienting. but he wouldn't give in to the mental warfare of it all. rome stands brave against the current of men in buzz cuts, sporting uniforms that made him incredulously scoff. did they really think they could scare him? the turning of the door knob makes his tongue sharpen. he's ready to pelt daggers at the next subject of his torment. but a cloud of blonde hair steals his breath, eyes softening though his posture remains poised. "blair," the name has transcended his lips a thousand different time in a myriad of different ways. but this one holds recognition. it holds hope. "is this the next phase? bringing you in here to interrogate me? if so, it's a feeble attempt. your the person i adore arguing with most of all." the corner of his mouth cocks into a tired smirk. the bags under his eyes attest to his exhaustion. unexpectedly though, the blonde's presence bring a soft light back to them.
for a long moment, penny doesn’t move. she just stares. at the sheer audacity of drew standing there , draped in borrowed clothes that don’t fit , wearing that same infuriating grin — like she hasn’t been missing for two weeks. like she hasn’t left penny to spiral , to wonder, to reach for a silence that never broke. her heart is still hammering against her ribs , the remnants of panic still thick in her bloodstream , fourteen days of unanswered questions pressing down on her like a weight she can’t shake. and then drew starts talking — rambling , deflecting , making jokes about flounder and burner phones , like this is just another one of her reckless disappearances. like penny hasn’t been tearing herself apart over where she was , if she was even alive, and suddenly something inside her snaps. a sharp , humorless laugh punches out of her , brittle at the edges. "are you — are you fucking kidding me ?" her voice is quiet , but there’s something dangerous beneath it , something raw and frayed. two weeks. two weeks of radio silence, of checking her phone every five minutes , of knocking on doors and getting nothing but shrugs , and now she just waltzes in — grinning , joking , like it’s all some game ? penny moves before she even thinks , grabbing the nearest throw pillow and launching it at her. not hard. not enough to hurt. but something — because if she doesn’t , she might actually scream. "you — " she stops , jaw locking , fists curled at her sides. "you absolute fucking — " another sharp inhale , her breath unsteady , her entire body tight with the effort of keeping herself from completely unraveling. "do you have any idea — any fucking idea — what the past two weeks have been like ? you couldn’t have just — texted ? called ? hell , sent a fucking carrier pigeon ?" she’s breathing too fast. she knows it. feels the way her hands are shaking , the way her chest is rising and falling too sharply. she knows she’s letting the panic and frustration bleed through , but she can’t shove it down. not when drew is just sitting there , completely unbothered , sniffing her vanilla candle like she didn’t just disappear without a trace. penny presses the heels of her hands against her eyes , turning on her heel and striding into the kitchen before she does something she won’t recover from. because she knows drew. knows this is her coping mechanism — acting like nothing is wrong , like she hasn’t just put everyone who gives a shit about her through hell. and maybe , once upon a time, penny would’ve let herself be distracted by the theatrics. would’ve let the relief of drew simply being here outweigh the hurt. but she’s seen this routine one too many times to fall for it now. she grips the counter , sucking in slow , steadying breaths. if she says something now , she will regret it. because part of her , beneath all the frustration , wants to burst into tears — because drew is alive , because she’s standing in front of her , because penny doesn’t have to wonder if she’s lost her forever. after a few seconds , she forces herself to move. forces herself to walk back into the room , stopping in the doorway , leaning against the frame like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. her voice is quieter now , but there’s no mistaking the weight behind it. "are you going to tell me what happened," she says , gaze steady , expression unreadable , "or do you just want to pretend everything is fine ? because i may be a good actress, drew, but i don’t think i can do that."
it's not as though she'd expected a happy reunion. a running jump into her arms, milk maid gowns free flowing in the wind as they rejoiced. drew had expected the anger. but the delusional part of her brain, which was the part that was at the forefront these days, was silently hoping they could just skim past the anger. as a pillow collides with the back of her head, it's clear that they'll need to make a pit stop at i'm sorry station. "ow! i was holding a candle." a searing finger nestles between her lips and she sucks out the brief pain like venom. this does capture drew's attention, now completely facing penny who appears to be one lightning strike away from full-blown super villain fury. the power of their connection transcends what they are both willing to understand. it's frightening to some effect, how drew can instantly feel penny's agony crawling beneath her skin. infectious is how drew would describe it, but penny would likely describe it as empathy. she supposed that's where the two differed most. it was dangerous to drew -- and all consuming for penny, it made finding common ground far more precarious when one of them was trying to flee while the other was trying to cling.
"you know -- parker did tell me the pigeons were mindless drones. i thought that was kind of mean, you know? so i sent one. but judging by the fact you didn't get it. i guess i owe him five bucks." she fucked up. she knew the feeling as equally as she knew penny's turmoil considering their tendency to go hand in hand. and wasn't that devastating? knowing that your faults perfectly coincided with your partner's dismay? "i do want to pretend that everything is fine.." the blonde admits, likely the first thing she's been honest about in days. she sighs as she crosses the floor to penny but allows her enough space to feel comfortable. "but that's not fair to you. i know. i just -- i don't know what the fuck happened if i'm honest. and well, fuck. that's not fair to you either. i was sitting at work like.. is this gonna be the rest of my life? being good while everyone else is great? i mean - look, and i'm not trying to project this on you - but you're fucking great." drew scoops up the throw pillow off the ground and sink back into the bar stool, hugging it closely to herself. a waft of penny's perfume fills her nose and she takes a deep breath. it's grounding for a moment. that is until she says, "this time i've spent piecing us back together isn't bullshit, penny. i've been trying to make it up to you. and i'd do it all over again.. a thousand times." french nails are picking softly at the soft fuzz balls on the pillow as she nervously looks for something to do with her anxious fingers. "but will i ever be able to truly make it all up to you? i mean, really. and i want you to be honest with me."
there might've been a time when sage felt grateful for someone stepping in and proving, even for a second, that the world wasn’t built for men like her client to always win. but that was before she learned how to handle herself, realizing that help usually came with strings attached. rome wasn’t like the rest, but that didn’t mean he got to rewrite the rules. “you don’t get to do that,” sage insists, her pulse hammering against her ribs. she needs him to understand that whatever anger he's consumed with doesn't change the fact that she's the one who has to deal with the fallout. she sighs, tensions running high as she stares at him, wondering how she's going to fix the mess he just made. there’s no undoing it now. she won't be able to smooth it over with a flirt and a laugh, and that client will likely be filing a complaint with her boss. the air is undeniably charged, and rome is standing there like he’s waiting for a thank you instead of a reprimand. "fuck, rome, don’t you dare talk to me about backbones. you think i don’t know what being a stripper entails? the risks it comes with?" she scoffs, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she looks at him, a fiery intensity gleaming behind her dark brown irises. "i don’t need you playing hero. i just need you to trust that i can take care of myself."
"so what? they do?" it isn't his place and he knows it. he has no claim to her, no reasoning that makes this all okay. but it doesn't suffocate the flame that rips through his chest, the adrenaline that braids his tensed muscles so tightly that the becomes too much and tendrils simply ripple and snap. sage was no stranger to these men but neither was rome. however, it was like they were staring down at the same tarot card, syphoning a very different meaning from the men before them. to sage, they presented as piggy banks. harmless suitors and she had the upper hand. a siren, the very namesake of the club. calling out to them with her beauty, enticingly so that they lower their daggers and are drawn to her energy. but what was the point of her sweet alluring song if she didn't have the instincts to strike? that's where rome came in. they presented as vultures to him. circling the vulnerable, thirsty to feast on the fallen. and rome was anything if not just. maybe he believed he would save her. "but i can't trust you to take care of yourself. am i supposed to pay my tab and go home? let whatever happens happen."
anger heats his features, a frustrated blush prickling across his face in a furious contagion. it was easy for sage to put her own life on the line. he watched the same men do it day in and day out. waging wars that were much larger than a game of cards. and he'd be damned if he saw sage become a casualty in a wager of her own. "until those bouncer prove themselves competent, i'll wear that bar stool cushion thin if i have to. and i'll do a lot worse that some asphyxiated foreplay. putting hands on you is personal to me. because this isn't what being a stripper entails. you're not to bought or expected." you're to valued.. worshipped. rome buries the thought as he sinks down onto one of the seats, staring at himself in the reflection of the mirrors that corner them into the confined space. "it's not my job to protect you. but morally, i can't just be a passive bystander in all of this. if i was -- i'd just be another jerk off coming to this place to watch you."
♡ closed starter delivery → @gamecfchance
cue the roll of her eyes as rome squares up to a finance bro who had leaned in a little too close for comfort. it isn't the first time — him playing watchdog as if sage can't handle herself. she's done this a million times before. the guy wasn't even that bad, just a little handsy. it wasn't anything she couldn't redirect, but rome's acting like he needs to be thrown out on the spot. this isn't his fight, and she needs him to realize that. "please, rome, it's fine. i'm just doing my job," she assures in a hushed tone, trying to get him off the other guy's back before a physical altercation goes down. forcing a passive smile, she turns to her client and mediates, “ignore him, he thinks he runs the place.” but the moment the words leave her mouth, she can still feel rome behind her, radiating tension as though he has any claim to be pissed off. swiveling around, she takes his hand and pulls him away from the main stage, into one of the private rooms in the back before closing the door behind them. "what have i said about laying off on your bodyguard instincts? i get that you're protective and i appreciate your intentions, but i'm not a child."
a pair of grabbing hands did not pair well with a whisky neat. sure - the liquor may have fueled his flared dramatics. but rome has his hands at the other man's throat before sage can encourage him to stop. he knew the man -- knew what he was about. saw him come into the casino with girls like her, never to be seen the same again. the man was a highroller at his card table. it made him a conman, a user -- and now gambling with his life. "apologize." the only word he can conjure as he tighten his grip unapologetically. years of flicking cards has made his fingers particularly lethal. rome takes the struggling gasps as an attempt at a pardon and releases him. "you could say that. like him, i like to make myself at home. except i'm a lot less touchy about it." in rome's eyes, it felt like he did own the place. he did a lot more than security ever did. but if the team of brooding bastards had half the intel that rome did, they wouldn't let these scumbags past the velvet rope in the first place. and now he's being brought to time out and scolded. a lot better than being escorted out in handcuffs, he supposes. "since when do i take orders from you?" the absence of the thrumming bass makes his ears ring softly, sage's words coming in soft muffled waves. the proximity calms him, knowing at least if she's in front of him, he's safe. "while we're handing out advice, i encourage you to grow a fucking backbone. their dollar bills are not an admission ticket to lay hands on you. unless there is a sign i didn't see that constitutes this place a fucking petting zoo."
