intrepidsz

[intrepidsz]

whispers . hello i'm clearly m.i.a and thus archiving !! i'll be writing still but am pretty low activity and currently quite selective / priv so - hard to say i'll be promoting at present - but if we've spoken ooc before , feel free to reach out via discord and we can reconnect !! otherwise : thank u for all the lovely plots & interactions !!

#* ooc. 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 #/ Tips hat . g'day babes

[intrepidsz]

the stubbornness inherent in cairo's patience is as kind as it is undeserving. irritation and the hum of the previous night warns jay with a guarded hesitation, stretches him thin like each offering came practiced with pity. he's paranoid, clearly -- self-serving thoughts bubbling out from impulsive decisions. but he lowers his figurative claws, shoulders coming down in a drained slouch as he nods, childishly quiet. "...yeah -- i've got both." there's at least a dollop of guilt tucked aside, so jay huffs, sliding from the sheets to lead cairo to the kitchen in question. remnants of his drinking sit in the sink, but aside from that -- he's surprisingly tidy. "pretty sure i've got white and whole grain so. what're you thinking? -- eggs on toast? french toast?"

“what are you coping with, jay? why can’t you just come to me to talk or vent or whatever it is that you need to do. that’s what partners are for, that is if you really do want to try this again. i’m willing to work for this if you are.” but the two were already in a disagreement and he hated that. he didn’t want to fight with him. “right. let’s just, let’s eat something. i’ll make up something. do you have eggs? maybe some bread?” he knew that coming for him as soon as he woke up and with a hangover was a bad idea so this all was partially his fault.

#* jay. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( blindspct. )

[intrepidsz]

the swift upturn of his eyes is reflexively shy, and not at all an act of annoyance. if evan's welcoming response to the following pictures aren't already apparent, his smile lingers long enough to require wrestling. (any further and his beaming would've caught a flurry of concerned stares, he's certain of it.) "i'm trusting you not to decorate my face with weird emojis," he muses, accusatory point raised when following suit. mystical shades of blue and green paint across nelson's face, before dimming them in the next room. and even then -- in the partial darkness, arguably surrounded by creatures of the deep -- evan finds himself overwhelmingly fond.

laughing as the other went on, he shook his head at the man’s words. “i disagree. personally, i’d like all of the pictures i take to be of just you considering how adorable you are but i guess i’ll get in a few of them.” nelson teased. he didn’t mind openly complimenting the other and that was mostly because most of what he said could be considered friendly unless someone really looked into it. as he posed, he lifted his phone up and snapped a couple of pictures before deciding to join him. his own smile took over his face and he leaned into the other. once he was finished, he pulled away. “got a couple of good ones. let’s keep going.”

#* ( blindspct. ) #* evan. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠

[intrepidsz]

it's all the more irritating because there is some truth to the argument. he's spent so much time being actively invisible to the faces closest to him, that jonghoon's recognition feels invasive in retrospect. tom doesn't remember allowing his figurative bruises to be seen -- not when the hair on his arms and neck are already raised, not when he's stiff and set to be guarded. the assumptions are mostly correct, and thus tom doesn't bark without a little bite. "you're -- really starting to piss me off." it's kinder than jonghoon deserves considering tom's own track record, but his lips sit anyway in a heavy frown. of course, he's empathetic of the confession, wary of the vulnerability being offered like a modern day olive branch -- but jonghoon's insistence frightens tom as much as it annoys him. and for a moment, they are at a stand still. tom's fingers squeeze the thickness of the door, mouth hovering open in hesitant rejection. but the sigh that follows is long and audible -- almost cartoonish in its exaggeration. "...i'm letting you in because i'm hungry. so don't ask any... stupid questions." his resolve has always been weak (or perhaps that's simply how he is: ever lacking, soft and malleable, tender enough to crumble with words alone) so there's a beat, maybe two, before he steps aside -- pointed eyes dropping to the floor and away from whatever smugness may rest on jonghoon's features. "no shoes indoors," tom adds, if only to draw a sturdy line.

tom's reaction is completely understandable. unfortunately, people even worse than jonghoon won't be as sympathetic to tom's need for delicate handling, and only in that situation jonghoon's brusque kindness would finally seem like a blessing instead of an inconvenience. if he's irritated by the brush-off, it doesn't show on jonghoon's face, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes still in place. he sure hopes tom is better at convincing the friends in his life who genuinely care about him without an agenda, because jonghoon's an acquaintance and he's not sold. "yeah? your stomach's not gonna audibly rumble if i open this sack and hold it up to your nose?" he questions, raising his brows challengingly along with the sack, the smile genuine this time.

"word of advice. don't bullshit a bullshitter." jonghoon will just let tom interpret that as he pleases, and clarify only if asked. at the pitiful attempt to send him packing and redirect jonghoon's attention, he huffs a laugh and then sucks at his teeth, pretending to think it over. "hmm... nope! i don't exactly have a lot of friends at the moment, y'know. that kind of happens, after coming off a drug-induced bender. wow, listen to me. really selling myself," he murmurs, the facade beginning to crack a little as a hand scrubs at his face tiredly. after a shaky breath, jonghoon composes himself. "you gonna let me in, or am i gonna have to leave this here and come back some other time?"

#* tom. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( hecticromantic. ) #/ they :-] ] ] ] what a disastrous and Sad Pair .

[intrepidsz]

"i can't tell which part of any of these statements are true," franklin admits, hesitant of assumptions if only because he's being dealt a miraculous kindness. and although the personal lack of recognition may already be screwing him over, he's heard enough people describe sincerity as the crux of most relationships. (new or otherwise.) so perhaps honesty will go a long way. plus franklin's certain he's read a statement or two describing the importance of being treated like the average joe when one's a celebrity. "but if you're famous, that's -- very cool and my ignorance has nothing on your success, seriously. but also -- i selfishly hope you're not so famous that i'll be in magazines tomorrow. that might fuck with my lies. 'cause the man at your three o'clock -- or at my ten -- might break my neck for not showing up. or he looks the type to do that."

“ 𝙶𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙰𝙳 𝙸𝙵 𝚆𝙴 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴, ” daniel keeps himself busy with a casual glance over the stranger's shoulder, investigative in nature enough to make it inconspicuous. daniel feels bad for the guy, but figures there's worse burdens to shoulder than overprotective parents — hell, maybe if his dad had popped up around more cafes he wouldn't be in the mess he is now. a smile twists at the sides of his mouth, clearing his throat and nudging two glossy pamphlets across the table. “ sure, you can help me pick rehab facilities. ”

the writer glances around the small coffee shop, chin in his palm, stirring a crystalized pack of sugar into his lukewarm drink. he's been avoiding going home anyway. “ I thought you were gonna ask for my autograph — ” he admits with half-hearted confidence.

“ who are you ' actively avoiding? ' ”

#* franklin. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( burningsky. ) #/ !!! thank u for this :-) ) ) ) 2 weeks passed but . .

[intrepidsz]

the lack of ignorance is stubbornly exasperating. adrian knows of -- in text, alongside skeptical experience -- the varying gifts offered to the cainites. some are more apparent than others, and some, like the act of reading minds (of distinguishing thought from steely expression) is less so. he could entertain the questionable skill with repetitive and monotonous requests for numbers between one and a thousand -- but stubbornness has painted adrian's intimate interest sour. armand does not fit the criteria regardless. his hunger too heavy, his body count expansive and assumably global (if not national). "i think it is perfectly sane of me to be distrustful of your promises, armand." his glare isn't exactly a pointed one, instead mostly gray and riddled with sleeplessness. "not that i expect you to understand my reasoning." and the distance adrian places is an intentional one -- carefully set if only to provide their history context for the foreign, dizzying intimacy. that the mere seconds of mutual agreement had been a work of hell.

he was not a heartless creature. at one time, perhaps, there had been enough grief in his heart to leave him a bereft, cruel thing, but that man was no more. adrian's life, though changed immeasurably no doubt, had been spared. and it would be spared again. armand would grant him that, if nothing else.

in the bulbous hanging of his pupils, black and all encompassing on his pale, soft face, armand's will shines as bright as anything; but the eyelids droop, closing for a moment before his mouth pulls some, half a grin making its way onto his face. mischievous, the vampire rocks forward on his heels.

❝ what's wrong, adrian, did you like it? ❞

bottom lip is pulled into his mouth. he seems to hold back laughter, but the amusement brims like honey. when armand speaks, the barest peak of small fangs can be seen under his top lip.

❝ is that your way of asking if i am also well? ask me if i'm well. it won't kill you. ❞

#* adrian. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( ichorlet. ) #/ i return from a trip and am Praying my ability to write adrian has Not Left me but !!!!!! #/ technically adrian attempts to kill All adulterers so that was Less Specific to armand but #/ if the shoe fits . :eye:

[intrepidsz]

"all happy families are alike, and all that right?"

#* ... tom ( 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 ) #/ heads up that i am ! alive and nearing the end of my trip so ! normalcy & activity to come ...

[intrepidsz]

jeremydied . . . an independent , private roleplay account for jeremy gilbert from the vampire diaries , as written as an original character by mimi .

#* ooc. 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑜

[intrepidsz]

slowburn childhood friends to lovers

i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth (summer song), fall out boy. (2006) // ribs, lorde. (2013) // rivermouth, adam b. // correspondences between vita-sackvillewest & virginia woolf

#* ( paramcur. ) #ektp. 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 #/ i am . LOSING my goddamn mind . #/ not only is this SO gorgeous — these lyrics are Ripping the Heart from my chest . also #/ sexy best friends . also ? u Feed me whilst im unable to be around #/ i Cannot be normal abt this . the letter . the i am So grateful to be in ur life but i Greedily want more #/ the way tedvan will eat me alive . . . (((and so will u))) #* ... evan ( 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 )

[intrepidsz]

#* ... evan ( 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ) #/ it's been BUSY so i'm doubtful of replies but :-( still checking notifs when i can ! #/ hope ur all doing Well 💜

[intrepidsz]

"and how do you prove that they are trying? when the bodies stack up, when the criminals -- both of human and cainite descent -- continue to cheat, to dismember, to steal from the passing innocent -- what then? you assume they try, you assume we are all striving for goodness, but i ask you again, lottie. where does intention matter when action says otherwise?" he enunciates his consonants, spits them like the continuous empathy teeters from curious to infuriating. she appears adamant, defensive in his eyes even as moments prior she had felt divisive, split between the curse and her humanity. "where is that part of you that fears being monstrous? when the murderers call to god and announce their salvation in between decapitations -- how do you respond? with patience? with the assumption that they are simply trying?" the crease between his brows deepen, and adrian whispers this -- eyes almost hazy with sharp admission, "i do my part, with the knowledge that i too, will be led to fire. you musn't stand idly -- not when the world suffers for it. i say this knowing you too feel this duty. you too, see the responsibility we have, and it's this acknowledgement that adds further resentment to your curse."

As his fingers brush a hair aside she stiffens. Careful as she realized she is a moth too close to a flame. Dangerous. Despite their conversation being civil there was a level of meaning hidden there. As if she was on a scale weighing herself in this human’s eyes. Good or Bad or Something-In-Between.

Swallowing, she watches him as he continues to speak. He paints the situation easily; he doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand.

“I assume people are trying not be bad people,” she corrects.

As he continues his musings, not only about Kindred-kind but Human-kind, her brows crinkle. “You speak as if anyone truly has the power to be fully good. Human, Kindred – we share many things. All Kindred were Human. All anyone can do in this world is try. Try not to leave it worse. Its harder for Kindred but I like to think they try. I try. And that’s what I am. I’m someone who will try their best to not be a monster. But like humans I am not perfect. And I can stumble.”

Her husband’s words echo in her mind The moment she makes a mistake he will come for her to lock her up til she is in control. The more time goes by, the more Kindred she meets, she realizes that that is an impossible task. They make mistakes with Masquerade, with their prey all the time. Her husband intended on profiting off the words he spoke – seemingly freedom giving but now. . . Lottie sees them as two-faced. Almost like this man’s words. How can someone be a perfect person? Adrian certainly wasn’t.

#* adrian. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( lovecursd. )

[intrepidsz]

"that sounds like a terrible plan," evan whines, quickly apprehensive when tasked to pose in his lonesome, "my natural lack of charisma will show and even the fish will raise their fins in secondhand embarrassment." he argues with wary exaggeration, limbs sluggish even as he leans stiffly against the glass, ever weak to nelson's asks. plus, for all the insistence, evan knows the request comes from a place of fondness -- and he's sensitive, vulnerable even when faced with it. "be quick about it -- murder me swiftly so my smile stays somewhat natural," he murmurs, clasping both hands to rest neatly in front, as he attempts a shy, sheepish smile.

nelson was pretty attached to evan and the memories of what the two of them got into, so he was definitely taking this date as an opportunity document what they were doing. he knew that he wasn’t going as far as to be affectionate in public, yet, but he thought that taking pictures together in front of everyone was a step in the right direction. 

“that’s what i was hoping you’d say.” he replied with a smile stretched across his face. nelson glanced at the area his boyfriend stopped in front of and nodded, “one of you first and then i’ll join in and we’ll take one together. smile for me.” he encouraged as he pulled his phone out and aimed it towards the other.

#* evan. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( blindspct. )

[intrepidsz]

"you provided me few options, to be fair." adrian doesn't mean to entertain armand's potential sadism, to allow him any satisfaction that his being fearful could bring. but the words fall, natural, and perhaps even expected. there is an unnatural rhythm to their conversations -- a smooth, hilly beat that tugs with enough subtlety that adrian finds himself newly stranded -- even as he stands vehemently critical of it all. the inquiry scatters under adrian's narrow gaze, sincerity falling flat when armand makes no move to clarify. "few are ever alright," he muses, itching to thumb at his own bare neck. (providing armand further comfort in his thieving is unnecessary, not when adrian's hair still stands, not when his sensitivity is stretched and mind stirring with a blurry anger.) "we are all wounded after all. you as well, i imagine."

comfort had no place in armand's world, but there was a yearning in him to quell whatever apprehension settled over adrian's brow like a lover might; see the knotted, worried flesh between his eyebrows knit together and wonders, idly, if he could rub it away. he comes with an open heart and hands that unbuild walls. the remote, dreamy stillness to the vampire's presence only seems to wane as he speaks, the silent spell that comes with their acquiescence a welcome one.

❝ your body is still afraid. ❞ armand's imprint on adrian could still be seen in the right light, could be smelled from what meager distance is afforded, but when he turns his head to look straight at him, he almost laughs.

❝ i would be afraid of me, too. ❞

eyes roam, drop to adrian's chest. armand stands, unfolding his arms to drop them at his side. he looks into the man's eyes again, intensely aloof.

❝ are you alright, father ? ❞

#* adrian. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( ichorlet. ) #/ thank u !!! :-( i am Doing my Best to Have a Ball #/ to imply that adrian is the Fun Times is . my Only issue with this arrangement #/ adrian 'my only hobby is praying and then stabbing an adulterer' clairmont ?

[intrepidsz]

"not everything's an excuse! sometimes things are just true! sometimes -- i have weird days and sometimes drinking helps -- 'cause i don't know! it's -- everyone circles through different ways of coping until they find the right one. -- and i'm rarely even a hard liquor guy." there is enough heat and borderline vitriol in jay's voice, enough sharpness at the tip of his tongue, that the following breath comes out shaky. and the frown set on his features deepens with cairo's reminiscent heartache. he can't be certain that the threading pin pricks building at the pit of his stomach is a sign of shame -- but considering its sadistic timing, jay can only assume. "i -- have a fuckin' headache. i'm -- recovering from a rough night cairo -- can't we just. like... we'll talk -- like i promised. just -- i also don't know what you want me to say."

“i didn’t threaten to leave, jay! i’m just trying to tell you how i feel about it and you’re making excuses to why you drink in the first place.” cairo sighed and pulled away from him. maybe it was stupid for him to have showed up and asked for him back, to suggest fixing things when the other wasn’t willing to fix himself. “i don’t know what you want me to say. i just think that if we’re going to fix things that we should both go all in and work on things about ourselves that probably caused our original break up.”

#* jay. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( blindspct. ) #cw alcohol

[intrepidsz]

he expects the kind inquiry, but the revealing comment tossed assumably at a figure no longer apparent to jay -- counters affectionate hands with continued fluster. "what the fuck -- !" he heaves, one hand shooting upward to grasp the end of jeremy's sleeve. "who -- what the fuck is goin' on? why'd you -- say that?" he doesn't know jeremy as the sort to take part in elaborate pranks, nor does he seem to give away any semblance of stifled amusement. the alternative explanation however, goes against jay's understanding of the world as he knows it. the ignorance allows him to navigate major life events with more nonchalance than most of his peers -- this philosophically challenging reveal does the opposite. still, he responds rather meek, with sputters and wide eyes -- his free hand lowering to the humming heartbeat of his chest. "you -- saw them too? the... ghost?"

staring at jay , he tries to ground the other with his hands . of course , being in a haunted place would come with ghosts sputtering about . he can see them , observing the other like he was a piece of meat or like some kind of entertainment. jeremy knew they must be bored , the way they're knocking things over and trying to make a scene like a ghost would in the movies . " very funny . " jeremy remarked , staring right at a spirit who was rapidly moving a rocking chair back and forth . "knock it off , you're scaring our baby ghost hunter here ." the spirit raises their hands in defeat with a slight shrug , but jeremy turns to jay with a worried expression : " are you alright ? " he looks down at the other's elbow . " you're not hurt ; are you?"

#* jay. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( jeremydied. )

[intrepidsz]

tom's frown doesn't ease. though he senses some form of sympathy in the continuous explanation -- he doesn't take kindly to being pitied, nor does he enjoy the near parental way jonghoon prods at him, essentially asking in an overtly friendly manner whether his head is secured in place or not. he feels like a lab rat, like a butterfly with its wings pinned to a napkin, like he's being psycho-analyzed over a mere comment or two. a neurotypical person would find it uncomfortable -- tom finds it quickly irritating. "there's nothing to talk about," he deflects, eyes downcast to the dark splotch of oil seeping through the bag. whatever appetite he's had slowly disperses -- flutters out through a lengthy, weighted sigh. "i don't need your... 'kindness' right now. and i don't need to unpack anything. i'm managing, like i said." he rarely has company anymore, but jonghoon's insistence makes him avoidant of the attempted reach. tom wears the seclusion like a blanket, and rests his head atop a bed of stories, each winding and far away and creative enough that his mind quiets. "don't you have -- places to be? more interesting people to offer -- lunch to?"

every living family member jonghoon had left thought his biggest problem was that he thought of himself as more funny than he actually was, and time hadn't exactly proven that theory wrong. still, he hates that he'd spoken carelessly about tom's circumstances and tried to make light of the situation. if jonghoon were in tom's shoes, he thinks everyone around him would have tried to have him 5150'd by now. it's not like they haven't tried before, but it was for reasons of jonghoon's own making. (or so he's been told.) seeing sinister things on the wall that weren't there from his latest drug-induced bender has been enough to test the unsturdy foundation his reality has been trying to coast by on. "speakin' of managing it... how's your fuel tank looking? have you eaten today?" he asks, an easy going smile tugging at his lips as he not-so-subtly lifts the brown paper sack their takeaway is sitting in from a greasy and cheap fast food joint. "might not suit your palate, but beggars can't be choosers. sometimes when your brain is struggling to chug along, it's easier than you'd think to mistreat your body." this has been jonghoon's problem on more than one occasion, after all. his smile turns a few degrees south, transforming into something a little more sinister and self-deprecating. "not that i'd consider this heart-attack on a plate a kindness. can we talk?" the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, because as much as he'd like make himself as unobtrusive as possible, there were too many blood-sucking parasites like himself eyeing tom right now for him to leave the situation alone.

#* tom. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( hecticromantic. )

[intrepidsz]

tom x jonghoon [ "i was trying to be jovial, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have tried that." ] / @hecticromantic

tom's frown is lessened only by a persistent confusion. it's easy to read jonghoon's words as acts of sarcasm, but the unpredictable way this conversation continues to unfold paints him as a rather unreliable narrator. additionally, whether the apology is sincere or not, can't be discerned with phrasing alone. even with the potential sincerity -- tom fights the assumption with reflexive exasperation. "there's nothing inherently wrong with your... enthusiasm. or -- optimism -- or whatever it is you ascribe to. i'm just -- not in the best mood. and managing it the way i know how." whether or not his persistent coping mechanism (escapism with the additional instruction to rinse and repeat) helps in the long run, tom can't say for sure. he finds it hard enough to gaze a handful of days into the future.

#* tom. 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 #* ( hecticromantic. ) #/ in which i thought this would be a goofy starter but . tom is So Sad . #/ Fastballs this ur way before i inevitably pass out