you put my name up in lights

doesn't anybody love you more than i do ? yo, 24, gmt+3

[lcveloop]

YOU PUT MY WORLD IN SLOW-MO . . . semi-selective, very slow, multi-muse indie. written with love by yo (24, she/her, gmt+3). please read my rules and don't interact if you're a minor, write dead dove/taboo topics or are a smut-centric blog, thank you!

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drafts . . . 22 starters . . . 00 queue . . . 00

[delicarias]

⠀⠀⠀⊹ ࣪ ˖⠀⠀⠀❛  don't  flatter  yourself  too  much.  this  place  may  have  been  boring  as  shit  without  you  but  i'm  still  hoping  someone  knocks  your  teeth  in  next  friday.  ❜  the  typical  friday  nights   —   not  that  he'd  admit  it  out  loud,  but  there'd  been  something  strangely  off  about  getting  through  them  without  sterling  around.  no  running  into  him  at  two  in  the  morning  looking  half  dead  while  the  man  looked  unfairly  clean,  no  voice  cutting  through  the  static  just  to  piss  him  off  for  sport.  it  should've  been  peaceful,  but  the  lack  of  someone  needling  at  him  from  the  sidelines  with  that  familiar  smug  grin  felt  concerningly  irritating.  sterling  was  irritating,  in  general.  ❛  i  spend  whole  weeks  concerned  about  you  being  dead  or  not,  and  you  can't  even  bring  yourself  to  give  me  a  real  souvenir   ⸺   not  even  a  lil'  postcard,  a  magnet  or  something   ?   ❜  a  scoff  leaves  mason  through  bruised  laughter,  rough  around  the  edges  as  aching  ribs  immediately  punish  him  for  the  action   —   and  the  sound  dies  quickly  into  a  hiss  between  clenched  teeth,  shoulders  tensing  momentarily  before  he's  forcing  himself  to  relax  against  the  bench.  instead  of  moving  away  as  sterling's  knee  knocks  against  his  own,  he  lets  his  head  lull  slightly  to  the  side  in  acknowledgement.  ❛  but  sure,  your  face  is  the  real  gift   ...  even  though  i  can  see  the  stress  wrinkles  from  here.  i  think  time  away  doing  people  might  be  making  you  age  badly,  mr.  well - travelled  man.  ❜  and  there  it  is   —   concern  wrapped  so  tightly  in  sarcam  it  almost  passes  unnoticed  before  mason  is  immediately  reaching  for  another  jab  to  bury  it.  ❛  did  the  trip  to  find  your  true  self  this  time  around  not  treat  you  well,  or  did  someone  overseas  finally  get  sick  of  your  face  too   ?   ❜

[lcveloop]

Head thrown back, Sterling cackles. Isn’t that just hilarious? The only person that has noted his absence and waited for his return, whatever the reason may be, is someone he occasionally exchanges punches with. Not any of his so-called friends or his sort of lovers but Mason. “Hoping is all well and good but what you, my friend, really need is action. Do it yourself, knock my teeth in… unless, of course, you’re scared that I’ll be the one wiping the floor with you again.” Taunt ends with a childish, sympathetic pout and he reaches over to pat the other’s shoulder (once again with a bit more force than necessary) in faux reassurance. The sorry sound of Mason’s laughter has his eyebrows shooting up, quickly scanning him to check his injuries again, genuine worry in the corners of his mouth before they’re shooting up to form his usual smirk and he returns to the image of his normal, careless self. “How cute… are you sucking up to me? I appreciate it, keep going, but, just so you know, it won’t make me go any easier on you next time you’re on the other side of the rink.” Fingers carefully travel the length of his own forehead, eyes suspiciously narrowed at Mason. He is aware of all his imperfections, catalogues them while he stares at the mirror each morning, knows he looks especially tired these days, undereye circles so dark that no color correction has managed to fix them. Wrinkles don’t sound far-fetched and still, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Such slander… I feel you might just be jealous of my ethereal beauty and youthful glow. Don’t worry, if you’re nice enough to me I’ll tell you all my secrets.”

Except the ones about where he was or anything about his work or life outside of boxing. Part of why Sterling comes here is to escape his family, he doesn’t want to be thinking about them and he most certainly doesn’t want to talk about them. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story but since you’re so interested…” A second passes, only the distant sounds of water hitting tiles coming from the showers filling the silence that stretches between them. Then another. And another. When he’s finally satisfied with the anticipation he’s built, he leans closer, dead serious as his blue eyes lock on Mason’s dark ones. “I ended up stranded in this village,” he begins, whisper conspiratorial. “Middle of fucking nowhere, so tiny you can’t find it on the map, boring as shit. But I was so out of it when I arrived that I completely destroyed the main road. So, they sentenced me to community service, had to fix the whole thing by myself and, obviously, I didn’t want to! I wanted to go somewhere nicer. But, in the end, after I got my ass handed to me, I decided to put in some effort and fix it.” Sterling sighs, theatrical, infusing the quiet sound with as much fondness as he can, his head shaking slightly. “I learned all about the magic of friendship during my stay in Radiator Springs. Unforgettable moments, truly. Would make a good movie, I think.” It’s not the first time he’s done this, relied on the plot of the first piece of media he could think of just so he doesn’t have to share something genuine about himself, and it definitely won’t be the last. “And that’s why you didn’t get a magnet. I was very busy.” ˚₊‧⁺˖ @apreciada

[apreciada]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✢⠀𓈒⠀ ֹ⠀⠀⠀a private starter⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀for @lcveloop ! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ santichai wong appreciates you. ♡

⠀⠀⠀⊹ ࣪ ˖⠀⠀⠀❛ we could never be together, but it's nice to play pretend. ❜  

[lcveloop]

Lips thin as the words ricochet in his brain, their finality making his stomach churn, and it takes considerable effort not to flinch away from her. “Is that all this is to you? Play pretend?” Hurt shines clear as day in black eyes and his tone of voice, questions rolling off his tongue slower than usual. It’s not at all how Takashi envisioned the night going and now he’s not sure what to do with himself, eyes roaming the room but never lingering on the woman in front of him, grip on his wine glass visibly tighter than before. “Well, you did a great job. It was all very convincing.”

[likeswallowstosea]

How could Solomon remain so steady despite how completely unraveled Serissa was at the moment? How wasn’t he afraid? This was terrifying, fighting with him, knowing she had to fix everything before it fell apart, and yet he was talking as if he’d still be here after he took time to think about tonight. Would he resent her later for not fighting harder to talk things out now before he went to bed angry and everything fractured beyond repair? It felt like taking a card out of her parents deck, risking making the same mistakes they had. “You make it sound so easy.” And she was making things so much worse, lashing out at him like an animal out of fear. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the tears falling harder. “I know, you’re just uncomfortably perfect.” Why was it that despite the fact he made it exceptionally clear he wasn’t humoring serious conversations tonight, something completely lame was bubbling up on her tongue, dying to spill out of her mouth. “If I texted you ‘I had a rough day and I just want to watch Chicken Shop Date and make out,’ you’d probably come over. You wouldn’t even consider throwing a fit if we didn’t fuck. You buy me dinner without expecting anything in return, you don’t get pissed off when I hang out with Ches, and you’ve been standing out here arguing with me for how long now and you haven’t even called me a bitch once despite the fact I’m being one at the moment. We’re literally fighting, and you’re still perfect.” Did she really have to say it out loud though? How much worse was tonight about to become because she wasn’t shutting her mouth? She glances over to him, sighing. “It’s not fair, nothing about tonight has been fair.”

Serissa lets out a small laugh, “I think hell would freeze over if your mother was excited about anything. My da would be ecstatic though, you’d probably get invited to every family function for life.” And the worst part was it wasn’t a lie, her father would love Solomon, which only made keeping him from finding out about them even more crucial. Her father finding out meant Edward finding out, and Edward finding out would result in a massive headache for both of them. “You would have an issue with me opening my own door even after a fight.” She teases him, but there’s a genuine affection in the observation despite all of the conflicting emotions welling up in her body. She should be upset — she was upset — and yet there’s no hiding the way the tension in her shoulders ease the moment he climbs into the back of the cab beside her and shuts the door. 

“With pleasure.” Tonight absolutely wasn’t the night for it, even without the fight, they were way too drunk. But she can’t help the way her eyes immediately flicker to his lips the second he suggests getting on his knees later, mouth growing dry. “Good, because it’s going to be extremely relevant during our next lesson.” She whispers back, matching his discrepancy. Personally, if Solomon wanted to kiss her right this second, she didn’t care what the taxi driver ended up seeing as long as he kept going but Solo was a gentleman, and so instead of testing her luck and trying to steal a kiss, she rests her head on his shoulder and relaxes into him. “I’ll allow it, or you could stay the night. You’ll probably break Camille’s heart if you come in and leave but she’ll get over it if you bring treats next time you’re over.” It wasn’t Camille’s heart she was worried about, not really, but it wasn’t as if Seri could ask him to stay after picking a fight with him. They’d just spent how long arguing outside of a cab, the fact he was walking her to the door and trying to set her up with what she'd need when she inevitably woke up with a killer hangover in the morning was more than she deserved at the moment.

[lcveloop]

Solo has never been eager to just other people’s relationships, never thought it was his place to, especially after the way he’d ended things in his last one, but he’s genuinely a little horrified at what’s happening here. What kind of super villains did Serissa date before that she has these awful expectations? That this is considered good? Fingers pinch the bridge of his nose and he breathes through the sudden anger and frustration that overwhelms him (not at her, never aimed at her, rather everyone who’d clearly hurt her in the past) before he shakes his head. “No, Seri, I’m really not ‘perfect’. I’m the farthest things from it, really. What you’re describing is me respecting you and that is the very bare minimum.” Another time, when she’s comfortable and ready and they’re hopefully not in the middle of the street, they’ll have to sit down and unpack all of this together but tonight is not the night for that. “It’s okay,” he says, tone placating. “I’m just used to trying to deescalate situations. But you’re okay. I don’t blame you for letting your frustrations out. It’s only natural.” As long as Serissa is safe and willing to eventually have a discussion about the matter at hand, that’s all that matters to him.

“Ah, see, that’s just a common misconception!” Sardonic smile graces his features, shoulders coming up in a shrug. “My mother gets excited about plenty of things. They just rarely ever involve me. Or anything good.” He’s not really sure how she’d react to anything that involves him and Serissa. Not well, probably, because she never reacts well to things that actually make him happy. For the most part, Solomon has simply been avoiding thinking about it, if only so the anxiety these thoughts give him doesn’t kill him. The idea that Alistair would approve of him shocks him into momentary silence, heart rate picking up speed. “That sounds lovely,” he muses, hoping the longing in his tone is enough to mask his unwillingness to believe her. Because why would Alistair approve of him? Sure, they joke that he’s a gentleman and he’s somehow managed to have Seri thinking he’s “perfect” but, really, most of the time Solomon feels like a total asshole. If he really was a good person, he’d end things and let her go so she could find someone who actually deserves her. Unfortunately for her, he’s still too selfish to do that. “Well, of course,” he agrees, matching her teasing tone perfectly. “You should never have to open doors when there are perfect gentlemen such as myself around to do it instead!”

It’s reassuring to see that, even after everything, Seri is still willing to get close to him, to be physically affectionate. Warmth spreads from his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers and Solo smiles, turning his head slightly, just enough to kiss the top of her head, palm dropping to her knee. They’ll be okay, he tells himself again and again, willing it to settle in the folds of his brain. They can work this out and everything will be fine eventually. “Looking forward to it,” Solomon purrs near her ear. The only sound that fills the car as he grows quiet and mulls over Serissa’s offer is the quiet music coming from the radio and the occasional rhythmic clicking of the driver’s blinkers. “I mean… I could if you’re sure you’re okay with that?” It’s a tempting idea. If he stayed the night, he would make sure she is safe and okay and he does always sleep best when they’re cuddled together. But Solo can also come up with several reasons why he shouldn’t. Would they really be able to process everything said tonight properly if they continued to be around each other? What if they fall into another argument and there’s even more to unravel when they eventually get to it? “I don’t know. I want to, I really do, but I feel like I’ve already upset you more than enough tonight. Wouldn’t you like a breather form me? Some space?”

[jellyaced]

he rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink. far too sober not to recognize her customer service voice being used. “ talk about what, d ? ” he asks, exhaustion easily recognizable in his voice. they were over and he made peaace with that. he no longer wants to dig up a past that will only freshen the wound he worked so hard to heal. “ you've been out of my hair since you broke up with me. what else do you want from me ? ” and even despite his best efforts. the annoyance on his face can be traced. he knew coming here to meet her was a bad idea. still, he went. why ? because maybe there's a little part of him that hoped that when she sees him. she'll change her mind. that she'll see he can make more of himself. that maybe he would be enough this time.

[lcveloop]

The nickname makes her sigh, soft and fragile and lost in all the sounds of the bar around them, fingers clinging a little tighter to her drink. “To apologize, mainly.” With how obsessed Duygu is with perfection, admitting she was in the wrong always tends to be a little difficult. But it is necessary. “I said a lot of shitty things back when we… when we last talked.” Though talk is quite a generous word for what had actually occurred and Duygu winces at the memory of her own vice, loud and angry as she shouted out all of her frustrations, however small, while pacing her apartment like a caged animal. “And I am really sorry for that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” She had replayed her final fight with Cedric in her mind every single night, regret growing overwhelming as did her loneliness. It’s never been clearer to her what people mean when they say you never know what you have until it’s gone. “And, truthfully, now that I’ve thought it over, I think I was wrong. About everything. You were the best part of my life and letting you go without telling you that just didn’t feel right.”

[thelonelymvse]

They're right. Aksel fucking hates that they're right. He hates that Cherry is being so logical about the rest they need and the support he needs. They're right. He's so tired all the time, weary down to his bones, and he has no one to rely on. Not the way they all rely on him. But he can't keep going like this. He is falling apart and Cherry is right here, arms open for him both literally and metaphorically. All he has to do is trust that, if he collapses into Cherry, they won't let him fall.

Just the hardest thing he could ever do. No big deal.

"I do not think it could ever be anyone but you," he admits quietly into her hair. He lets himself fall apart around his family in bits and pieces because they all need him to be whole. Because even as his siblings move away, they need to know they can look back and lean on him when they need to. Mama needs to know he'll take care of things the way he always has. Aksel has people he's friendly with, but he doesn't trust any of them. Not like he trusts Cherry. There is no one else he would allow to hold him while he whispered all his worst, guiltiest feelings. "But what if it's too much for you? What if something goes wrong because I was not ready to stop it?"

That feeling never goes away. He doesn't think it ever will. Cherry has seen only fragments and shards of improvements over the years they've known each other and still she says he's her favorite. Still she says she loves him. (It shouldn't make his heart stutter. There's no way she means it the way he would, if he could say it. But it's something. It's so much.) "You are a liar. There is nothing great about me." He says it because he doesn't know how else to accept her kindness, because her too sappy threatens to overwhelm him, and yet Aksel only squeezes her tighter in his arms. "Will you.... can I..... fuck, this is weird, but I think I could.... I could sleep again if we're in the same room. Your room or mine, I'll take the floor, I just... need to know that you are safe."

[lcveloop]

Another hum from them, this one to acknowledge his words. That doesn’t seem particularly healthy for Aksel, they think he deserves more people that he feels comfortable around and could rely on, but it still would be a great accomplishment, a huge step in the right direction and the fact that he’s even considering it makes them feel proud. “I wouldn’t offer that if I didn’t think I could handle it, Aksel. I know how to look after myself. I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t worry about me.” Truthfully, if Cherry had it her way none of her friends would ever spend any longer than a second concerned over her wellbeing but that is simply not how relationships when you genuinely care for the other person work. So Aksel will probably continue worrying about her and she’ll continue worrying about him no matter how much they reassure each other. “Everything will be alright. We’re okay and safe. Even if something went wrong, it wouldn’t be your fault. You can’t just blame yourself for everything wrong ever!”

It breaks Cherry’s heart when he talks like that. If only Aksel could see himself the way she sees him or know just how lovely he makes her life by simply existing… until then all she can do is sigh in clear disapproval and drop gentle reminders that he is very wrong. “Don’t even get me started. I could whip up a really impressive PowerPoint about all of your amazing qualities in record time. If I wasn’t worried that you’ll get really awkward about it, I would have probably already done it a hundred times.” They really ought to dial it back before all the things coming out of their mouth start seriously veering away from platonic besties territory. “No, that’s not weird,” Cherry blurts, maybe a little too quickly, then clears their throat a couple moments later. “Of course, we can do that. But I am not letting you sleep on the floor. I’m not hearing out anything you have to say about that. It’s just not happening. What if you get sick? Or your back or something starts to hurt? We can’t have that! Who is going to reach the top shelves for me then? I’ll look really stupid using a step stool at my big age.” That would be the least of their problems, of course, but it’s the first thing she can think of to lighten the mood. “My bed is big enough for both of us and I wouldn’t mind sharing. But if it would make you uncomfortable, that’s fine, we don’t have to do that. I’ll take the floor.”

[thelonelymvse]

to @lcveloop // random starter for nick

"thanks for meeting me," rhys says, grin shy as he fidgets with his iced coffee. "it's really good to see you again."

it's weird seeing nick again in person, instead of just watching clips of his games on youtube and instagram. it's hard to reconcile the celebrity sitting in front of him with the teenager he spent so much time playing tennis with after school. no matter how much he reminds himself that nick is the same person.

"nora wanted me to tell you that she says hi, by the way. she doesn't remember meeting you, but she, uh, likes watching your games with me." rhys loves talking about his daughter, but it feels a little... strange, with nick. if she hadn't been born, rhys would have gone pro, just like nick. but she was born, and now he barely knows how to talk to the man he once considered his best friend.

[lcveloop]

It’s times like these that have Nick wishing desperately that he wasn’t so awkward, that he could greet his old friend and chat with him and sound normal. There is so much to say, so many things to talk about, he hasn’t seen Rhys ages after all, but instead he’s sitting there, alternating between wiping his palms in his sweatpants and stirring his cold brew, brain empty. “Of course!” Head dips several times for an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice to see you, too. I’ve been looking forward to catching up. You look good!” It’s not a random pleasantry but a genuine compliment, his gaze sweeping over Rhys’ frame again and the polite smile he’s been carefully maintaining grows a little wider, more sincere.

Genuinely surprised, Nick gapes, blinking owlishly for several long moments. “Wait, really? She does? That’s so sweet! Now I’ll be nervous next time I play knowing you guys are also going to see that. I honestly didn’t expect you to… um, still be watching tennis.” Immediately, he wishes he didn’t say that. Because there’s no way to erase that, he clears his throat and rushes ahead, “How have you two been? Happy and healthy, I hope?” Keeping up with friends has never been easy for him but it got borderline impossible when he went pro and spends more than half the year on different continents. Rhys, however, was one of the people that had stayed on his mind and he’d felt bad for drifting away from. It was normal, of course, with how busy they both were but that doesn’t alleviate his regret. At least now there’s a chance to fix that. Nick leans back in his seat, arms crossing in front of his chest, expression growing soft. “Whenever I’m home and I have time, I’m trying to get my nephew, Leo, into tennis. He’s four so literally the perfect age to start but my brother says I’m just bothering him. Which is super false, for the record, I’m a great coach and we have fun. It’s a great way to bond!”

[1liv]

LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT in This Time Next Year (2024)

[niziui]

"just ... a little," she admits, bringing her index finger and thumb close together and winking through it. clearly, more than a little. it's not her fault, she was had these weird and unsettling feelings for nick that he didn't seem to pick up through any of her telepathic signals — it was ridiculous. she was way too proud to spell it out for him, because imagine he doesn't feel the same way? sometimes, she feels like he's incapable of seeing her as anything more than a friend. but then, he says something that makes her heart swell — and looks at her in ways that make her believe there's something more. heavy lids meet his, far too strong of a gaze for her to look away from, lips pursing in slight surprise at how quickly he'd agreed. "what?" it tumbles out before she can stop herself. "it does?" she croaks out. relationship! he said relationship! suddenly, she's feeling far better and stronger — moving her chair closer to his and peering up at him through drunken eyelashes. "i really, really can't stand it. seeing her with you, all happy and coupley. it's been making me want to puke. if you wanted a fake girlfriend ... why couldn't you have just picked me?"

[lcveloop]

Leyla is so cute that, despite all his worries, an affectionate smile graces his lips. “Sure. A little. Let’s go with that for your sake.” It doesn’t matter to him exactly how drunk she is, he’ll still be fretting over her just the same anyway. “Of course!” He nods his head, brows furrowing in concern. See, Nick is aware he’s not the best at showing his emotions but it doesn’t sit right with him that she’s so surprised to hear this. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been making it very clear but… you’re one of the most important people in the world for me.” Maybe just as important as his family at this point. Dark eyes grow wide behind round glasses, a hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder and steady her before Leyla has the chance to tumble like he’s scared she will. “Careful,” he mutters, taking it upon himself to slide her chair closer until it’s pressed right to his and the distance between them has shortened considerably. Nick’s mouth opens and closes several times as his best friend rambles, so overwhelmed by all the information that he doesn’t know which part to focus on. “I don’t—I didn’t want any of this.” Between how badly he dreads meeting new people and his fear of relationships, fake dating a complete stranger wasn’t exactly on his bucket list. “If I’d had a choice, I would have picked you. At least I know I’m comfortable around you.” Though would it really have been comfortable and easier to pretend to date Leyla? In a lot of ways, he thinks it might have actually been torturous. The thought of holding her hand in public or leaning down to kiss her isn’t foreign by any means but it always makes him feel seconds away from a heart attack so the real thing would have probably been detrimental for his health. Still, even when he knows that probably shouldn’t be the case, Nick’s curiosity about what being affectionate and relationship-y with her would feel like lingers. Face flushing, he looks away from Leyla again and clears his throat. “But we could also fake date if that would make you feel better? We would probably have to wait a bit so it doesn’t seem like, I don’t know, a rebound or something. I don’t want anyone in the press to call you anything terrible because of me.”

[niziui]

he's peculiar, though amelia can't exactly place why. maybe it's the mannerisms — the consistent do - gooder energy even when he's clearly uncomfortable. she might be drunker than she normally gets, but even that much isn't lost on her, like a whirring brain that couldn't even manage to turn off after five shots. “luckily, we'll probably never see each other again after this,” she huffs out with something close enough to a laugh breaking through a hard exterior. he has no clue that she isn't like this one bit, isn't messy, isn't temperamental. she left that part to her younger brothers and soaked up all of the perfection instead. “...how far is main street from here?” she could hardly tell — probably because even after moving here, amelia never cared to get her license. no need to learn street names when you could call an uber anywhere you needed to go. that's precisely why she feels compelled to take one. “i'm sorry, is that judgment i hear?” even a drunk amelia couldn't resist being snide, narrowing eyes that were glazed over anyway, line of sight too blurry for her usual bravado to make any impact. “i know my address, that's the only one that matters. i don't have a partner — i got dumped." she sighs and stops herself from the details, as humilating as they are. "which is probably how i ended up here in the first place. and the last thing i need is calling a friend and facing the embarrassment of this.”

[lcveloop]

“Hopefully.” Not even a trace of malice when he says that, voice and tiny smile matching her amusement perfectly. “You’re quite the troublemaker, Amelia.” Although now that he’s not as freaked out about her sudden appearance in his apartment and move on from the insulting comment she made a bit earlier, Rohan supposes this isn’t all that bad. Or, well, it could have been a lot worse. At least Trinket found himself a new friend, purring softly from where he’s curled up by Amelia’s side. “Um, pretty far… is that where you live?” He looks her over again, curious, trying to discern if she looks like a person who resides on main street. She just looks rich and surprisingly put together for someone this wasted. “A little bit,” Rohan admits without guilt, nodding his head. “It’s just that you’re drunk enough that you broke into a random person’s apartment so hopping in a car with a stranger… I don’t know, you’re free to do whatever you want obviously, but I would advise everyone I know against that.” Sure, he’s also a stranger to Amelia but he thinks it’s solid advice anyways. Lovely! Just his luck to ask someone that just got broken up with if their partner can come and take care of them. “Oh… I’m sorry about that.” Offering comfort when they just met under the weirdest circumstances ever about ten minutes ago feels very odd but he can’t just leave it without saying anything so he forces a small, encouraging smile on his face. “You’ll find someone better, I’m sure. Trinket’s a good judge of character, usually, so I trust you’re probably a decent person and you’re pretty so someone nicer will come along soon enough.” Rohan sighs heavily, fingers rubbing at his temples in hopes that he can chase away his upcoming headache, though that seems unlikely to happen until he figures out a solution to this situation. “I get that this isn’t a fun thing to explain to anyone but they’re your friends! They’ll understand and they’ll help you out.” Unless they’re shitty friends in which case Amelia should probably cut them off. But that’s frankly none of his business. “You could also always lie to them about what actually happened, I guess. If you feel that uncomfortable with the truth. And I’ll back you up if you need me to.” Growing quiet, Rohan leans back in his seat, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thinks. “My next best suggestion is that I drive you home. Which technically goes against what I just said about cars and strangers but… offer is on the table, feel free to consider it.”

[lcveloop]

open to: anyone muse: elio clemente (mid 20s, musician & aspiring actor) plot: the song he wrote about your muse is going viral and people are starting to speculate who it could be about

“Okay, okay. You’re being really dramatic right now and I need you to calm down. You’re giving me a massive headache.” Leans back in his seat, grasping the side of his head and groaning as if he’s experiencing the worst pain of his entire life. “No one’s going to find out the song is about you. And even if they do, what’s the big deal? If anything, you should be taking me for all the attention it’s going to get you!”

[lcveloop]

open to: anyone muse: meiqi wu (early 20s, professional matchmaker) plot: meiqi is used to getting everything she wants and everyone fawning over her but this time things are different

“I just don’t get it! Why don’t you like me?” Gaze remains fixed on their face, determined to study every minuscule change in their expression. It’s not like Meiqi to be quite this honest and whiny but the buzz of alcohol had brought it out of her, pout set firmly on glossy red lips. “I’m rich and smart and beautiful. What more could you possibly want? Do you know how many people would kill for a chance to be with me?”

[alliumduo]

time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

there it goes (acoustic) - maisie peters / fourth of july - fall out boy / bang the doldrums - fall out boy / daisy jones and the six - taylor jenkins reid / writer in the dark - lorde / silver springs - fleetwood mac

[lcveloop]

@nouvelis ˚₊‧⁺˖

The music is so loud he feels it in his bones, the party still going strong, maybe even getting wilder, around them. Usually, Alfie would be found on the dancefloor, showing off awesome move after awesome move, but right now he’s on the sidelines, red solo cup full of beer in hand as he glares holes in Emmy’s profile. “You’ve been staring at that guy a lot. Like, the whole night basically,” he drawls, failing at his attempt to sound nonchalant when irritation curls around each word that comes out of his mouth. “Why? Please don’t tell me you like him or something.” Even just saying that out loud makes him want to be sick, an angry frown settling on his lips. Perhaps because he’s (technically) an only child, Alfie has never been good at sharing, always getting bothered when his friends get close to someone new, platonically or romantically. Thinking about Emmy having a crush doubles the irritation that he’s used to, triples it even. That should probably concern him, at least a little, it’s an excessive reaction even for someone as emotional as he is, and maybe he’ll ponder over that later but right now he doesn’t have the capacity to be anything other than angry. “I mean, he just seems so boring. And he’s not even that pretty.” Unlike Alfie who is both fun and gorgeous. Not to mention he knows how to please her.  So why is Emmy wasting her time looking at some random jerk? It’s seriously making him regret inviting her. “Do you even know him? He might be the worst person alive. I don’t think you should talk to him, just in case.”

[lcveloop]

@apreciada ˚₊‧⁺˖

The day was ruined the moment Nevaeh opened her eyes and realized she’d slept through her alarms. Everything after that is a blur: tripping over herself in her hurry to get the first clothes she could find on, no time for breakfast or coffee or checking her phone as she rushed out of the apartment shared with her brother, running as fast as her feet could carry her to class only to get so flustered over being late that she completely bombed her presentation. Feet drag on the ground as she walks now, looking like a zombie while meandering through campus, tired and stressed and wondering what to do with herself after such an unexpected, stupid failure. And then, because the universe hates her for some reason, it starts pouring. Everyone else seems prepared for this, a sea of colorful umbrellas unfurling around her almost in unison while Nevaeh has to hold her bag above her head as an impromptu shield for the half a minute it takes her to spot a coffee shop and sprint there.

Whatever. At least she can get herself a sweet treat as a reward for keeping her tears at bay… so far.

This place is new for her yet she lacks her usual enthusiasm to look around and admire the décor, simply staring at the back of the person in front of her until it’s her turn to order and she can get her syrupy coffee and a croissant. Others have had the same idea of waiting out the shit weather in here, it seems, the seats quickly filling with chattering students and, just as she’s wondering if she’ll have to sit with a stranger, she spots a familiar face in the crowd. Her reaction when she sees Haruto is always the same: a rush of pure giddiness, a flurry of butterflies unleashed in her stomach, the urge to go and be near him, even if she says nothing, loud and annoying in her mind. Then, just as quickly, come the nerves, crashing into her with all the force of a freight train. Does she look okay? With no time to spare in the morning, Nevaeh had put no effort in her appearance and, well, she’s not sure she wants to approach her…. friend’s friend while looking like a drowned rat. Debates it for a bit, standing still in the middle of the café, several people nearly running into her, before deciding that the idea of having to share a table with someone she doesn’t know on a day that’s already going so wrong is slightly more horrifying and letting her legs carry her over to where he’s sitting. “Haruto, hey! What are you up to?” A smile is forced on her face, friendly but tiny, quick to flicker out when their eyes meet and her stomach swoops, grateful that her hands are busy holding on to her drink and plate so she doesn’t immediately start fidgeting with her clothes. “You mind if I sit here? I won’t bother you, I promise, it’s just getting a bit… crowded.”

[lcveloop]

@apreciada ˚₊‧⁺˖

Nothing in her entire life has felt as good as her newfound freedom. For years Yeseo had played the part of a good daughter, dutiful and proper as she followed the path her parents clearly mapped out for her… until she stopped. The decision wasn’t easy, kept her up at nights for months but, in the end, it’s clear she made the right call: a gap year from the major that she didn’t choose, a very real, physical distance between herself and the rest of her family when she travels the world with her older sister and gets to know herself. It hasn’t been that long, just a handful of months, but there’s no denying Yeseo’s changed. Not just physically with her freshly dyed red hair or the new freckles on her face from all the time she’s been spending in the sun but internally too, her independence breeding an ever-growing sense of confidence.

Her joy can't be disturbed. The constant earfuls from her parents and their poorly-veiled threats aren’t that scary anymore when she’s learned to stand up for herself. All exhaustion from hectic schedules melts away the moment she sets foot in a new place, cameras ready to capture its magic and eyes wide as she drinks in the atmosphere and explores all on her own. Except… there is one thing. A part of her soul missing, stuck back home.

It was a surprise, you see. She’d told Xiaofeng her stop for the next while is Italy, the big, depressingly empty apartment her sister rents in Parma, only to show up on his doorstep yesterday with balloons, a bag of gifts that have accumulated over the past couple of months of travel and the announcement that she’s staying here for two weeks. The occasion is happy, she is happy and yet… something is not exactly right. At first, Yeseo chalks it off to catastrophizing and natural awkwardness after time apart but her anxiety grows and grows until all she’s seeing is the differences between the way they act now and how things were before she left. Even though Xiaofeng is right here, skin soft and warm under her fingertips as she caresses his cheek, he has never felt so far away. “I missed you,” she says for the umpteenth time, whispers it like it’s some precious secret. “My days just don’t feel the same when you aren’t with me.” Going from seeing each other almost every day for years to video calls and text messages was jarring and, quite frankly, the hardest part about moving away. Especially when that communication had slowly started dwindling recently. “You should come with me for a little while.” It’s not the first time Yeseo has made a similar offer but maybe, just maybe, when she’s here in person and he can feel the full force of her pleading expression, it will hold more weight. “When school is more chill and there’s not a lot of band stuff going on or whenever you want… it will be good for you.”

[lcveloop]

@apreciada ˚₊‧⁺˖

Fingers move with practiced ease over the strings of an acoustic guitar and JJ hums along to the melody that fills his bedroom, something that sounds almost like actual words and lyrics but isn’t quite that, brows furrowed in concentration. The last note comes, hangs in the air, and he sits there, quiet and still for several moments as he asses his own performance. “Something like that,” he announces at last, gently lying his favorite instrument on the bed next to him. “But I dunno… something about it doesn’t really sound right.” Truth is, he knows exactly what the problem is: nothing that he’s shown Kumiko in the past couple of weeks has been even a little sincere. All he does these days is hide and lie to her, from avoiding her at all costs until he gets worried about acting suspicious and sends her a random text or invites her somewhere outside to buying a brand-new composition notebook that he could bring around her so she doesn’t glimpse at his real one where all his feelings remain hidden in between messy handwriting and stains from coffee cups. At some point, he even makes up a story about how the change happened because he lost that one and pins his grumpiness on the art that is now “forever gone” and feels so guilty he doesn’t talk to her for two days. Considering their whole relationship is built on near constant communication and a raw vulnerability that he’s never experienced with anyone else, the differences between the past couple of months and how jittery and inconsistent he’s been recently are stark. The solution? Invite her over to work on songs and act normal so he can convince her everything is fine before she starts doubting it too much.

Bathed in the soft light coming from his night stand (because he loathes using the big lamp that hangs above), Kumiko looks ethereal. It punches the air out of him when his eyes linger on her face and it hits him then and there just how stupid of an idea this actually was. Inviting her here, late at night when his roommate is gone? What was JJ fucking thinking? Sure, this has been completely standard for the entirety of their friendship, cooping up in each other’s spaces where they can be alone and think, bouncing ideas off of each other until they create something beautiful, but things are no longer the same. It’s exciting and terrifying being alone with her on his bed now, exactly how things should be and something that should never happen again. Jumps on his feet suddenly, scrambling to get as far away as his tiny room allows before he can do something terrible like start to lean in, back turned to Miko as he pretends to be rifling through the junk littering his desk. “Phone, phone… where’d I put my phone?” His elbow catches a pile of books, sending them falling on the floor, but he barely pays attention to that, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand until his heart rate calms down a little. “Ah! There you are. Oh fuck, it’s pretty late already.” A subtle introduction to the idea that maybe she should leave. Finally, Junjie turns to the mess he’s made, dropping to a crouch as he begins to pick up his recent reads one by one. “This one’s pretty good,” he muses casually. “You should—” And that is the exact point his attention turns to Kumiko again… and the notebook that had, of course, landed close to her. His stomach sinks. There’s no way she doesn’t recognize it: tattered from use, decorated with doodles, and so unlike the pristine one he’s been using recently. Before he’d become so brutally aware of his feelings for his friend, he was eagerly flipping through the pages and showing off all the lyrics and poems he’d been working on, asking for her opinion and wisdom, and now panic practically explodes in his chest, eyes growing wide with unmistakable horror. “Don’t! You can’t touch that.”