#confusionism

[rosesonbreeze]

@confusionism

No matter how many years Anna spent traveling the globe, she would always think herself immune to jetlag. Nevermind that its been seventy-two hours since she had proper sleep (and taking a cat nap on Aiden's shoulder, en route to Tokyo doesn't count, apparently). But it catches up with her. After a solid day and a half in the bustling city, Anna knocks out on the King sized bed of their hotel suite.

Still in her jeans, and forgetting all about the avant-garde, Japanese head piece that was fitted for her hours ago. Luckily, she doesn't actually stir around in her sleep.

"Fuck," Anna jumps, coming to sudden consciousness. "What time is it?" Because that's the danger of giving into jetlag; there's a chance she and Aiden missed a dinner reservation, or God forbid a fiitting. "How long was I out?" She groans, hazy eyes looking around for Aiden. But it's the TV screen, playing on mute, that catches her attention first.

Leo Guiterrez out of Chelsea; issues an apology

"Is that for real?"

[miidnighters-a]

@confusionism | plotted starter

Callisto's sitting by the counter, watching Lucas browse the store. He's not a regular as such, but he is a constant. Has been dropping in and out for years - enough to be on a first name basis, and for her to have some idea of the things he's looking for.

Normally she would offer suggestions to customers to help with what they're looking for, but he seems so intent that she's hesitant to disturb him.

Finally, she pipes up. "You sure I can't help you? I did up those charms yesterday."

[badiiidea]

text | roxana + aiden

roxana: Hey, so like, what's your mood today?

roxana: You know those charts in the doctors office?

roxana: [[sends photo of smiley face based pain assessment scale often hung in doctors offices]]

roxana: rate your mood based on that please.

[rcsecolor]

continued from here.

“i was kind of thinking we could start with a fish or a puppy, not—” setareh tilted her chin and leaned forward, glancing at the tiny tot in danica’s arms. her voice lowered, kind of as though she were afraid to wake the little one up. “—not that.” still, despite the apprehension that coursed through her veins — mostly about the responsibility of taking care of a human being, because she was far more that just certain about her love — she couldn’t help but soften at the sight before her. “what’s, um— does he have a name? how old?”

and setareh would have been correct. a baby was much too soon but danica always had this internal mother instinct. she had been through enough foster homes to know what it was like. seeing the baby at the firehouse made her have an attachment. “no, there’s no name. i don’t think. the mother dropped them off and disappeared.” it wasn’t a common occurrence it happened at the firehouse but it did happen, except usually there was a grace period on when it was legally okay for the mother (or father) to drop a baby off with no repercussions. “the doctor said he’s about three months. he’s pretty healthy.” she looked down at the sleeping boy in her arms. she was smiling down at him. “i was thinking his name could be dominic for the time being. i know he’s not a puppy or anything but he needs a home.” she looked up at setareh now. “it’s okay if you don’t want to be involved. this is a lot to ask.” / @confusionism​

[ofmusingsxandmayhem]

Closed starter for @confusionism​ || Luca & Gen 

The last few weeks had been absolute hell for her. She felt like she was looking over her shoulder almost every few minutes, expecting someone to be behind her, and while most might consider that normal for someone in her world, it surprisingly wasn’t. Her family’s name gave her a certain level of immunity, comfort that she was not going to be taken out by a bullet on a busy street because the majority of their rivals knew not to mess with Andrea Romano. But something felt wrong and she suspected that Lucas had something to do with it. Ever since he completed that job at her request, it felt like someone was watching her every move; shadows in the corner of her eye, someone shifting just out of sight as she would look. She felt paranoid and that was absolutely not her style. So when they had attempted to meet and he simply walked right past her, it only served to add to her growing concerns. 

This was their next try, with her sitting in the corner of a restaurant, crowded and bustling to give her a sense of security. Her back was to the wall, a trick she had picked up from her brother, and she observed the space for any suspicious movements. All she had to do was wait for him to show and she would hopefully get answers.

[ofmusingsxandmayhem-a]

C O N T from @confusionism​ || Lucas (X)

Gen’s eyes never left him as he brought the cigarette to his lips, tilting her head slightly as the smoke slipped free with his words. “Oh no, not scare. Just tempt.” While the words had been a vague threat, and she enjoyed exhibiting the power that the Romano name gave her, she didn’t want her link with Lucas to become tarred. “I want you to help me get a little problem of mine out of the picture. A problem named Henrick.” A man who had long caused her family trouble and could easily be removed from the equation by an appropriately placed con thanks to his affinity for good deals.

[shark-plots]

Closed starter for @confusionism​: Vampire x Werewolf plot.

The stench of blood reached her nose before the usual musk of the stable could be smelled. Beatrix was more sensitive to the smell of blood, the metallic yet irresistible smell that reminded her of mulled wine, warm and rich. At leas that was what she recalled mulled wine tasting like. 300 years since humanity was consumed from within her and she had yet to find a way to enjoy food and drink the way she once did. Though she still insisted her servants cook her lavish meals that satisfied nothing beyond her desire for pageantry. The stablehand stood outside the stable, holding his hat and looking like a frightened child as she approached.

Beatrix simply walked past him, noting making a sound as her feet walked across dry grass. In the manor she had been informed that something had entered the stable the night before and slaughtered her favorite stallion, one that was the grandson of her previous favorite stallion. Two of her servants, including the groundskeeper, had been injured in the scuffle with the creature. A debt needed to be payed and Beatrix being the woman of the manor the job fell to her. Walking to the stall where her stallion was once kept, blood still pooled around the stall entrance, she stood at the threshold not caring if her shoes were soaked in red. A man lay in the hay, chained up like a dog.

“Anything to say for yourself? Do you even speak or simply growl, mutt?” Her tone was even, indifferent. Beatrix had yet to decide what to do. Killing him was obvious and boring. Everything in her life was already so boring. 

[godsless]

for : @confusionism​ ♡

back pressed against the cool metal of her decade-old toyota camry, she faces the prison’s main entrance amidst this foggy dawn, tall and mighty and imposing — a sight she’d swore to never see. moments like these, sohyun can almost feel it — the drop, the further fall. the crumbling of their world around them when she learned news of his incarceration. she’s clueless as to whether he’s expecting her or someone else, mind only preoccupied by the fact that she gets to see him. set her eyes on him in what felt like a millennia. she jumps at the sound of a blaring alarm, chunky gates clinking together before drawing open to the side slowly ... almost excruciatingly so. 

sporadic clumps of ( now ) ex-convicts begin to filter out, their loved ones scattered outside the premises, just like sohyun was, begin moving forward to meet them halfway in teary-eyed embraces and soft, choked murmurs. but unlike everyone else, she’s on a wave, a substantial one — far out from shore. once he emerges, she doubts he’ll be able to spot her. sohyun decides to trail behind the crowd, inching closer to the walls of barbed wire and reinforced metal until a single, final silhouette against the filtered sunlight cuts through the early morning mist. a strikingly familiar figure that bleeds warmth into her heart, heartbeat palpitating as her grips tightens on the paper bag full of congratulatory doughnuts. her short, slim arm sticks upwards in a small wave, breath quickening as she watches him come into earshot. ‘ hey, you. ’