#starters: closed

[heartofasoldier]

w/ @brightstvrlights — dealer's choice

"Hey stranger, long time no see. What rock have you been hiding under?"

[axulrich]

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐙 — 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 (@sebcastillo)

Axel wraps the meal up tight, still warm from the dinner rush and hoping to keep it that way, he feeds leftover remnants of the pasta carbonara in the makeshift Tupperware (mostly consisting of parchment paper and plastic wrap, as plastic bowls were hard to come by these days) and slipped in a few extra things, stuff that they don't always necessarily keep out for the general population. He figures Sebastian would be wrapped up with his shift by now, dusk nearing night and he's lucky enough that it isn't a long walk. About five minutes to his apartment and the receiver— of the fine delicacy of a half-assed meal that they had to cook in bulk—living across from him made it almost too convenient.

There's a low humming noise as he enters the apartment building, people readying to tuck in for the night and otherwise, he conquers the stairs and reaches Sebastian's door, knocking a couple times. He waits, briefly, figuring that maybe he got it wrong, maybe he was still at work. He scratches his forehead idly, feeling bad about leaving the food at his doorstep. But, it has his name on it and no one is that much of a dickhead to steal it—he hopes. He sighs, fully giving in and placing the food wrapped up in the paper bag in the small corner between his door and the frame that held it together. Axel's too exhausted to overthink it anyways, turning toward his apartment and fumbling with his key, bleary eyed and tired.

[charliewolfgang]

closed for @morayblackmore​

A foundation built on the bones of the dreams of those that died before her — it sounded like a lyric she might write in the late hours of the night when the most emotional points of her life came colliding with the wanderlust in her heart; right then, however, it was just musing that flitted through her mind like a sea ghost lost in the spray a moment later and forgotten. Charlie would never recover that one, but as she stared out over the town from the window of the Starbeach Cafe she couldn’t help but feel a deep melancholy.

Lucky for her, she’d gotten very used to burying those emotions and hiding them behind placating smiles and perfectly imperfect make-up. Her eyes — today casting a glint of steely grey with flecks of blue — cast to the side at the sound of footsteps, not having been expecting anyone and her own scone abandoned, half-eaten and with flakes across the table, was less warm than it had been when she’d purchased it.

The sight of Moray always tugged behind her navel, like the sensation you get when you fall in a dream and your whole body jerks and yet you were never truly in danger; it was curious and as she stared at him, perhaps a beat or two longer than could be comfortable, she managed a genuine smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes but still changed the cast of her face, “Hey stranger, what brings you here?”

[cluecrue]

@xenovair liked for a starter from frank!

          When his shift as a busboy at a popular hotel restaurant across the street--part of their newest assignment--is over, Frank Hardy finds his way to this small park to wait for Joe’s return. Or at the very least a call to update him on why he’d had to leave him to cover both of their sections.

          And so he waits. And he waits. Melting exhaustedly into an ergonomically incorrect public bench, he waits.

          Eventually, a dream startles him awake, and he’s left momentarily disoriented, not remembering having fallen asleep. In that instant of nightmare-induced dread, he jumps to his feet and barrels right into a nearby stranger.

          “I’m--” He’d been about to lay on an apology, but he’s tongue-tied as he gets a good look at who he’d run into, and basically bounced off of. Brows furrowing, propriety tries to prod him along toward the owed apology, but he struggles for words. “I’m... Um.”

          Maybe he’s still dreaming. Maybe he’d inhaled too many cleaning fumes on his shift. Maybe there’s some projector, or optical illusion at play. Or maybe he’d been poisoned with ergot. Again.

          “I’m sorry--” He finally gets the phrase out, but it’s followed by something more akin to an interrogation: “--How are you doing that?”

[valcntinacruz]

a house doesn't make a home ● Val & Drew

Valentina: At the second she sent the text to Drew, she felt this wave of anxiety hit her like the cold, violent wind of Philadelphia's winters. Her apartment looked like a mess and smelled like an empty bottle of cheap wine mixed with sugary cereals. She had always tried to look her best in front of him, and things did not change. The woman cancelled her evening appointment, so that she could make him feel more like home than sleeping in his office like he had been. Within a few hours, her luxurious loft shined like never before. Her chauffeur brought her fresh flowers when he made sure she was alright. Valentina never turned down an offer to work, but the circumstances were different. She picked one of the peonies out of the glass vase she set them in and brushed its petals gently, staring through the window on the calm city, while feeling like the heart of New York City was beating in her chest. She had nothing to prove him, or so she tried to convince herself of it. She was being a nice friend, a loving and caring one maybe, but that was what friends were for. The sound of loud knocking on the door woke her up from her reverie, making her drop the delicate flower on the blanket she wore over her legs. The girl stood up, breathing deeply, as she made her way to the entrance to slide the door open. "Hey." It was all she found to say.

[heartofasoldier]

w/ @demidevildiva — dealer's choice

"You are kidding right? You look hot as all hell in that outfit, so whatever internal monologue is telling you otherwise, ignore it."

[heartofasoldier]

w/ @tcintedsvcrets — dealer's choice

"--- who knew you had such expensive tastes. What are we celebrating?"

[heartofasoldier]

w/ @plantfeed — dealer's choice

"Quit pouting already, you knew the terms when you decided to be my passenger princess. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole..."