#very creative title

[nectadraws]

Title: Soap Bubbles 

page: 1 ; (2) ; (3)

[hypotheticalnumeral]

The Interview

Left, or right? A thin hand swept the strip of hair one way, then the other. Looking in the hand mirror he’d untucked from his pocket, he squinted left -- tilt -- right --tilt --

A swig of water. Rolled the glass between four fingers on both hands, tapped his left foot. No right. Ugh. Leaned back against the tasteful-tacky leather of the couch, let his neck fall back, his eyes flashing open to gaze lazy at the sitting room ceiling.

Tsilik knew he was stepping out of his comfort zone with this one, but he hoped that being able to add ‘auto-filatio capable’ to his resume might at least set him apart from the other candidates. He wanted - no, needed this job. It was elevated, and elevation was what he needed to get out of the skanky rut his life had fallen into.  The young limeblood took a thick swig of water. Slight bob of his adam’s apple. Swallowed thicker, thicker than the anxiety beading his forehead that he wiped with a swift flick of the wrist and, exhaled. Eyes flicked to the clock, an abstract piece with those little metal lines instead of numbers - damn, he hated those. Couldn’t tell if it’d leapt an hour forward or was trailing its way back minute by minute every time he looked up.

Nearly a half hour into his wait and clearly, it was time to preoccupy himself. Pre-interview jitters were getting the best of him. He couldn’t go running out, not on this. Friends, family, a check over $15 --- but not this. Fuck if this wasn’t serious. 

He was famished for a change of pace. So famished he’d bothered to dress up. At least enough to disguise his developmental stagnation ... to a degree. He’d come in his best - form fitting skinny jeans (with only TWO unneccesary zippers! two!), knee boots with a tasteful number of buckles ---- eyeliner that only came out a fourth-inch from his lash’s edge, rather than covering the entirety of his lids. Oh yeah. He’d really stepped it up for this. He’d HAD to get out the fancy frock. No childish frivolity. This was some serious shit. Body guard position for THE troll that had revolutionized medicine as the world this galaxy-side knew it. Big shit. Important shit.

Another thick swig to cure a dry, dry throat. A slight haze began to fall over his vision as the nerves swarmed, and - right foot at the floor, tap taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap. Jingle jingle jingle jingle jangled piercings about his ears and etcetra. 

A cough from the secretary behind the desk brought those stupid metal lines on the wall back into focus. A rough shake of his head, shift in the clench of his jaw. Couldn’t fuck this one up. Can’t fuck this up. Won’t fuck this up.

Another swig attempted --- empty. Dry. Damn. Ah. Well.

Tsilik Lazris sat idle on the couch he didn’t belong, rolling that empty glass between bony thirsty fingers. Playing as if he might belong there soon, if the cards fell just right. Waiting for his time to come.

A slight lean forward, eyeing the secretary curiously. A low cough of his own. “Hmmm ... Ah, uh. Miss. Any chance you’ve got a read on when Mr. Selios’ll be ready for the next interview?”

[songoflyrium-blog]

Forbidden Fruit

Cullen had only been in Kirkwall for a few weeks, and he was still often plagued by nightmares - sometimes even waking visions. His roommate tried to cheer him up, but as nice as he was, the young templar often fled to the Chantry to find some peace. Demons couldn’t haunt him there. It was the only place that felt safe.

He was terrified of mages, even if he knew most of them had no intentions to hurt him. His tormented mind couldn’t see reason.

Here, between these sacred walls, he could breathe freely. He listened to the service and hoped it would stop those terrible memories of pain and temptation.

He usually didn’t pay attention to whoever was leading the Chant, but today, a pleasant voice made him look up, and he saw a young Chantry brother, probably around his own age, with striking eyes and a graceful figure.

[jamiegable-blog]

Talk | Jamie & Gabriel

On his way to Gabriel's dorm room Jamie got more and more curious what serious thing they needed to talk about. Did Gabriel catch an STI from him? Did he find out he had a kid? Or maybe he wanted to tell him that he was in love with him. Yeah, that was probably it. And then Jamie would have to reject him, and even tell him he wasn't gay. It would kind of suck. He knocked on the door to his room and waited for the other boy to open it.

[candicethewilde-blog]

Coming Home ||| Candice & Addam

Candice was glad that Addam chose today of all days to head back to New Orleans.  Yes she had teased him, pretending it was her birthday, but in reality, it was a much bigger, more important day.  Three years ago, she had gone missing.  It was the day when her life had hit absolute bottom, the day she kicked her habit of drowning herself in the bottom of a bottle, whisky or prescription.  It was the day she had met what she'd like to think was her new family, it was the day her life changed forever.  

And despite the change being positive, whenever the day rolled around, Candice's urge to drink, to get swept out to sea in a tide of booze and pills, only became stronger.  So New Orleans, despite it being the tail-end of Mardi Gras, was the perfect distraction from it all.  

After throwing one last shirt into her small suitcase, Candice attempted to zip it, only to find it much too full.  "God damnit" she muttered, before hopping up onto the bed and sitting herself directly on top of the red luggage.  But yet, the zipper still would not budge.  "Jesus" she jumped up slightly, hoping that the force on her way down would let her zip "Christ" she repeated the process "On" and again "A cracker." by this point her mutters had become much louder, and she was nearly yelling at her suitcase as she sat and jumped on top of it.

[sleepyberry]

remember to smile