i really want a gossip girl inspired plot. the ‘super rich kids with nothing but fake friends’ vibe. give me extremely fancy events they’re not really excited about, sneaking out in the middle of prestigious galas for a quick fuck, trying to pretend they deserve this curated reputation whilst they’re so gone on designer drugs, wanting to have fun but also struggling with trusting anyone because their secrets could end up published on this instagram page dedicated to share everyone’s tea, just… please? it could work so well for friends w benefits, but also enemies to lovers, or academic rivals or one of the richest heirs/heiress in manhattan messing around with an outsider.
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*places a single yellow cherry in your hands and closes your hands*
Do whatever you wish with it as long as you be wary of its immense value
*holds the single yellow cherry delicately*
Hmm, what to do with this?
Maybe I could plant it?
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;; So we were watching more Sandman last night and we got to the episode with Lucifer. I know that Sandman and Lucifer the shows are DC and I was really looking forward to my favorite Luci boy making an appearance..
Not that Gwendoline Christie didn't do a good job. She was amazing!
It did get me thinking about my Luci interacting with Dream/Morpheus. The shit that man could teach Dream about the waking world!! Dream also reminds me of an old muse from way forever ago and maybe that's why I love him so much....
But I would love for Lucifer to interact with Dream. Are there any Sandman rpers out there?????
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Don't Go
Panting. Heaving. Sprinting.
The temple was crumbling around him, there was no time. No time. Newt was sprinting towards the exit, protego could only protect him from so much and his lungs were on fire. Apparition was too dangerous. He was so close. Just a bit further. The stones were closing in, the path getting narrower but he was there. He was right there. One last push. One last push.
He was through.
The ruins collapsed around the exit. The impact lifted him off the ground and catapulted his body through the air and into the tree line. He twisted himself around his suitcase and braced for impact. The stinging of branches cutting against his skin could not have prepared him.
Crunch. Snap. Thud.
Newt was confident he had at least cracked a rib, the air had been knocked from his lungs and he was left gasping for air on the jungle floor, eventually rolling to a stop.
The nausea hit his stomach and he vomited bile across the foliage, retching and spitting out the lingering taste. His head was spinning from the exhaustion and crash in adrenaline. Newt was on all fours battling the dizziness as he tried to right himself. He needed to move before any of the surviving poachers could find him.
If any of them had survived.
They had started firing whatever curses they could think of the second he had been spotted. The ruins collapsed around them.
His legs felt heavier than lead but he forced himself to get up and walk. Blindly stumbling deeper into the jungle until a natural clearing was found still clutching his case with an arm holding his aching ribs.
It was still dangerous to apparate but the prospect of splinching outweighed the likelihood of torture if the poachers caught up with him.
He tried his best to clear his mind and envision the alleyway next to the Inn. The swirling, twisting of magic crackled in the air, as his insides constricted and contracted. The pain was agonising, apparating injured was not a clever idea but he had made his choice.
Newts feet landed on the ground and his hand scrapped along the wall trying to steady himself.
His instincts still screamed at him to escape. This was no time to linger, he had a small window of opportunity to leave the city before the poachers could catch up.
In fact this was the perfect time to test his emergency port key. He had promised Theseus he would keep one or two spare for situations that required a quick exit. This was definitely one of those scenarios.
Newt hobbled up to his room and frantically began packing his sparse belongings together. He would have to wait to patch himself together, the Inn was too dangerous to stay in now, his face had been seen and even the most dense criminal would be able to track his whereabouts.
It had never been his intention to get caught stealing back the horned serpents the poachers had apprehended.
Newt had only caught wind of the illegal operation by chance. He had been enjoying a meal at the Inn he was staying at when a group of men had come in boasting and celebrating their success. They had hardly been a conspicuous bunch, all thinking they were untouchable from the law. Invincible having handed a fearsome beast. Not recognising that sheer dumb luck had allowed them to last this long.
Newt left enough money for the owner to find to cover his expenses for the room. And he was gone. Portkey activated, it took everything in his power to stay attached long enough to collapse just outside the border of Tunisia.
He lay staring up at the sky, dawn was just starting to break and he could here is brothers warn whispering on the wind itself.
“Don’t go,” he had begged. Theseus thought it was too dangerous for Newt to go off on his own and travel the world. But Newt knew if he stayed stuck behind his desk at the ministry any longer he would have rotted away into dust.
Doubt crept in and a single tear rolled down his cheek. His ribs burned and his breathing was laboured. Was this better? Should he have stayed where is it was safe?
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