funandcutememes: (Default)
funandcutememes ([personal profile] funandcutememes) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2017-04-12 08:04 pm
Entry tags:


soulmate meme ;
▸ post your character ◂
▸ you're now in a universe where destined soul mates exist! ◂
▸ rng for the type of au and for the ~situation~ ◂
▸ tag around ♥ ◂

type of au;
1. tats, your character has a tattoo of the first words the love of their life will say to them
2. familiars, your character has an animal tattoo representing their soul mate on them
3. glow, the first time your character sees their soul mate, their chests glow!
4. world in color, life is literally black and white, until you see your soul mate for the first time
5. choose your own, i'm definitely missing a milly because i'm lazy, pick your own
cathartesaura: (b-hair in face)

Colette Wise - Original

[personal profile] cathartesaura 2017-04-13 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
lostinshadows: ([02] To hold our heads up high)

Lavi | D.Gray-Man | OTA

[personal profile] lostinshadows 2017-04-13 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
rebreathe: ({21})

Matsuura Kanan | Love Live Sunshine

[personal profile] rebreathe 2017-04-13 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
[preference for LLSS canonmates, unless we've threaded before or discussed this in advance. all prompts are fine!]
talentedscavenger: (Default)

Rey || Star Wars: The Force Awakens || F/M

[personal profile] talentedscavenger 2017-04-13 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
scarlettwin: (Default)

Wanda Maximoff || MCU || F/M

[personal profile] scarlettwin 2017-04-13 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
losthunter: (lean into my arms)

Hunter | Beastly | M/M

[personal profile] losthunter 2017-04-13 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
[The soulmate tattoo might get a little lost in the network of tattoos on Hunter's body]
mund: DO NOT TAKE. (Default)

percival graves | fantastic beasts

[personal profile] mund 2017-04-13 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
lethechained: (Colourburst)

Naminé | Kingdom Hearts | f/m

[personal profile] lethechained 2017-04-13 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
redtights: (Default)

ann takamaki | persona 5 | ota

[personal profile] redtights 2017-04-13 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
( please specify if you'd like to avoid spoilers! )
unconfided: (give me a shot)

4ish? like early november or something.

[personal profile] unconfided 2017-04-13 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ i thought it was a trick of the light, that's all.

it won't be his most convincing excuse -- but then, it's hard to imagine that he'll need one. level by level, mementos withers out of shibuya's underground into something stranger. tunnels circle and knot and give way to unlikely turns. vines writhe over its railings, snaking up into the dark where their roots can't be traced. its crisscrossed tracks prickle and gleam under the warped, sourceless light like something more thorn than steel. it's a monster's world -- and down here there's always monsters: a swarm of things slithering and jittering under black-smeared, crumbling archways, or trembling in shadows just on the brink of sight. things with too many legs or jutting skeletal necks, reeking of sewers and something older still. things waiting, waiting, waiting for their first chance to leap.

but they make a good team -- for a gang of teenagers whose biggest claim to athletic fame is an ex-track star with a penchant for literal catfights. awash in her eerie screens, oracle spins out an endless string of maps; morgana chugs and purrs along in relentless determination; queen keeps them all in line, floor after floor. and goro -- well. goro's foremost talent seems to lie in being wherever trouble isn't. he manages to finagle his way to the very back of the ranks just as they wheel around a corner and into a crowd of things writhing with half-melted faces. at the end of a floor, he stops and dallies with insistences about double-checking their equipment until a bloodied shape wrapped in gold chains comes rushing out of an empty shadow towards joker, long pistols glinting high. he has, in short, brought them the worst luck.

to be fair, goro isn't giving himself too much credit either. after all: it took him two floors to see the long, shimmering shadows as a sign separate from mementos' usual lurid strangeness, and one more to spot the pattern.

what he's learned so far (and kept under his tongue): shimmers drag along the ground where shadows have passed, in burning nameless colors that twist beneath his eye. the darker the trail, the more dangerous the enemy lurking at its end. with each new level, the world seems to scorch and deepen with colors -- but only so long as he's standing close to the team. (well, parts of it -- nothing happens next to skull aside from an increase in side-eyes and complaints that crow's blocking his shot, seriously.) nobody else's said a word about the changes.

but analysis is a thought for later, later, anyway. if they don't know about it right now, they don't need to. after hours of exploring, they've tumbled into a safe room (at last), and the team's taking full advantage of the chance: skull's sprawled facedown into the seats while a stern-mouthed fox rechecks every inch of his coat for spattering; oracle and queen stand at the end of the little space, arguing strategies to joker's patient ear. goro's settled himself by the door; through the pane, he can see the barest smears of silver-silver-red traced along the tracks. very faint -- probably useless, then.

idly, he taps an unopened can against the rusted arm by panther's seat. (must they call each other by their code names even at rest? well, it's a thievish practice, he guesses.) beneath the curving mask, his mouth crooks a little. ]

I've been meaning to ask: do they let you drink coffee?
redtights: (pic#11268876)

sounds good! i beat the game so if you haven't just tell me adfjkaf

[personal profile] redtights 2017-04-14 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ Today was supposed to be another normal day—at least as normal as normal can get since her life had made a complete one-eighty just months prior; just as the train system underneath Shibuya had morphed and twisted into something else, albeit more positive in her case. Mementos had always been off, even as things began to change the deeper they descended into this world filled to the brim of mysteries, and while she had been familiarizing herself with these changes there was certainly something strange about today.

Little flickers of gold, something that she must think is brown, but most importantly a shade of red her parents have described to her ever since she became attracted to it by coincidence. Something about it pulled her in, so when there was even a sliver of its existence in the reflection of her eyes Ann couldn't help the way her lungs go hot and cold before she finally takes an all too well-deserved breath of air. Settling back into reality and shaken by the small voice of a concerned Noir beside her. Responding with an all too practiced model smile that leaves her feeling awful for not being honest.

But when she looks to Noir—to Haru—or any of the members that she had formed such a tight knit bond with over the course of a few months she doesn't see the faintest hint of color. It had all gone back to being lifeless, void, her world returning to that it had all her life, and she questions further as to why that was. The conclusion, while obvious, isn't something that she can easily sit with, biting the inside of her cheek as she takes the five minute (or however long Joker allows them to stay here) break to act as if nothing happened. As if she hadn't nearly succumbed to the desire to cry with joy after seeing just the slightest hint of color.

Queen and Oracle's bickering plays as background music, as do the rest of their voices, and so when there's another source of sound coming towards her Ann appears shocked by Crow's presence; her eyes widen. ]

Oh! Uh, sorry. [ Her features widen, less alert and more comfortable, the corners of her mouth curling into the faintest hint of a smile. She can she red again and something form in her throat, making it difficult to respond back with ease. ] Yeah... You're free to drink whatever, we just mainly keep water on us to stay hydrated. [ Or was he asking her specifically? She almost dizzy and slightly irritated all the same time. ] Coffee's nice.

[ Eloquent. ]
unconfided: (a new reality)

nah, you're fine

[personal profile] unconfided 2017-04-14 12:25 pm (UTC)(link)
I should be the one apologising.

[ - for all that it rolls off his tongue with absolute ease, the perfect comfort of a boy who's never given a real apology, only traded them for more useful things. He sets the coffee can atop the chair's arm, pinching until its wobble fades into balance. A glance flicks briefly from tin to girl with equal interest and placid warmth. ]

I was curious; I've never spoken to a model before -- at least, not outside of the professonal capacity.

[ The (deliberate) implication: even minor celebrities can be nosy and curious about the Model Life (TM). ]

I always thought agencies kept them far away from caffeine.
redtights: (pic#11268877)

[personal profile] redtights 2017-04-14 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Observing the careful way he leaves the can for her and the subtle color that begins to bleed as it leaves his fingertips has Ann's stomach tying into knots. She swallows when it feels like her heart and throat had switched places, responding with ease: ] I've actually started to realize I don't follow any strict diets most models do.

[ She's trying to change, mature and turn this hobby into a career. ]

Thanks for asking first, though, that's considerate of you.

[ She looks to the can, slender fingers wrapping around before bringing it closer to herself. She cracks it open, blinking once before her gaze returns to the teen next to her. ]

So. Mementos. It's pretty weird, huh?
tacomeme: (Arms crossed)

Takumi | Fire Emblem Fates | ota

[personal profile] tacomeme 2017-04-13 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
[Open to auing as needed and all routes- just let me know!]
startpoint: (Default)

carolina | red vs blue

[personal profile] startpoint 2017-04-13 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
lovernotafighter: (Yep I AM that great)

Lavernius Tucker || Red vs Blue

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-04-13 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)
floreciente: (Default)

matou sakura; fate/stay night ; m/f

[personal profile] floreciente 2017-04-13 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)
siniestro: (Default)

Reaper | Overwatch

[personal profile] siniestro 2017-04-13 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
littlemissfutility: (100)

beth greene | the walking dead | ota

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-04-13 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[I love both canon and cross-canon CR. Let's do this!]
gottastaycalm: (15: Golden Truths)

Lambo Bovino | Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

[personal profile] gottastaycalm 2017-04-14 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
nobroth: (Default)

Alistair Theirin | Dragon Age | OTA

[personal profile] nobroth 2017-04-14 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
practicallyroyalty: (Default)

Jackie Stark (oc) ✬ mcu ✬ ota

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-16 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
bonsens: (Default)

Tattoos with relevance to their lives. A little vaguer than straight up names or matching ones.

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-16 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
When she's five, Morgan is fascinated by the arrow on the inside of her father's left wrist. On his right is the cello her mother used to play before a trucker climbed into his fourteen-wheeler after a night of drinking chased by a handful of caffeine pills in the morning and drove straight through her sensible gray Audi. The cello looks faded and worn with age, as old as her father's skin. Morgan used to brush her thumb over it while he fed her formula, and then later when he tucked her in his lap to comfort her over skinned knees or a dropped ice cream.

The arrow is different. New. One day it's just there, outlined in an angry red, her father hissing a sharp breath when she touches it gently. The red dies down, the ache goes away and Morgan can touch it without her father flinching, sticky fingers tracing the shape of it over and over again. Her mother wore Morgan's father's badge right over her heart. Morgan used to press a hand against it at bedtime, one thumb solidly in her mouth, wide eyes blinking up at her mother in time with her mother's heartbeat against the heel of her tiny palm.

It's a year after her mother dies that she sees that same badge again, this time splayed across the right arm of the lost teenager turned NYPD officer, turned babysitter. She presses an indelicate hand right against it and says with all the certainty of a six-year-old, "This means you and daddy have to get married and have a baby." (They don't do either, but in a way she was right. They belong together.) "When am I going to get mine?"

It becomes almost an obsession, finding the ink that has surfaced on people's skin, questioning Clint, her father, and every other adult that crosses her path, when her own is going to fill in. It's always the same answer. Not until puberty. In first grade, she proudly proclaims that Captain America is going to be her soulmate and she draws a crude shield bearing a star on the inside of her wrist every day for a month.

In the end, it's not the shield of the captain on the inside of her wrist, it's a sprawling blueprint-looking thing across her right shoulderblade. It starts when she's twelve, just a couple of lines of calculations spilling down the curve of bone. A girl in her boarding school class spots it when she's stepping out of the shower after lacrosse practice, and Morgan spends hours trying to catch a proper look at it while talking to Clint (her parent as much as her father these days) on the phone and speculating what kind of guy comes with a blueprint. As she gets older it grows until it covers nearly half of her back. Whoever her soulmate is, he certainly seems to need a lot of attention.

By the time Morgan is in college, her soulmate obsession has died down. When her dad or Clint remind her of it, she'll laugh and say the disappointment of it not being Captain America killed the fascination. The tattoo is on her back, most of the time she doesn't even see it, unless she's in the changing room of a store and catches a glimpse in one of the many reflections. It does limit her clothing options a little, unless she wants a conversation with every engineering grad on campus about what kind of machine her blueprint would make. (No kind at all, is the thing. Morgan's done her research and the blueprint builds absolutely nothing. It's meaningless. And maybe that's part of the dis-infatuation with the whole idea.)

In college, Morgan studies business administration. There's something comforting about budgets and numbers, though math was never her strongest subject. They make sense. She takes English classes and poetry 101 and produces some very unimpressive poetry. But college makes her feel alive like nothing else. When she's not in classes, she can often be found in the library behind a wall of books and papers spread out all across a table carefully doing her homework or studying ahead. The same cannot be said for some people who skip class and turn up hungover to exams. Some people who hand in their assignments scrawled across the back of menus and still manages to get straight A's. Some people who are double-majoring in business administration and engineering and who are stalked by paparazzi across campus. Morgan gives some people a wide berth.

That is until a particularly rainy Tuesday. Morgan's notepad is filled with neatly scribed notes, detailing the next class project. A business proposal, built from the ground up right to presenting it in front of the class and defending its viability. Her fingers itch with excitement. Scribbled in the margins of her notes are five ideas already. God, this is the kind of assignment she was built for, she's sure. Then a groan goes through the class as the professor announces that for this project, they'll all need a partner.

"Come on, people. I won't make you have to find your own partner. I'm not that cruel. I've carefully weighed your strength and weaknesses and paired you up with someone who won't drag you down. I even looked at GPAs."

Morgan's back straightens as he begins to read through the list, her heart stomping out a beat in her chest. He could pair hair with Ludwig, the German exchange student. He's very good with numbers and he lent her his notes once when she was down with the flu for a week. That wouldn't be so bad.

"Morgan Coulson." The professor doesn't pause for dramatic effect, but the breath between the names lasts for an eternity. "Jacqueline Stark."

Morgan's heart stops short in her chest and she casts a glance over at the gorgeous brunette currently having a nap in the back of the classroom. Fuck.
practicallyroyalty: (stark name)

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-17 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
Jacqueline Virginia Stark is as close to American royalty as they come. There are tabloids that say so. Many of them. She's the American Princess--heir to a fortune that rivals few others on earth and future owner of Stark Industries, the largest tech conglomerate in the world. Silver spoon is putting it mildly. But she doesn't let it go to her head--not really. She's a genius, she knows she's gorgeous and she doesn't have that hard of a time getting exactly what she wants when she wants it.

Soul Mates? Hah. Her parents are soul mates--her mom had the arc reactor on her chest, full size, long before her dad ever had it in his chest. Her mom talks about not knowing what it was and hating how she always had to cover it, but then she also always talked about the feeling she had when she saw Tony come back from Afghanistan and he had what she'd always had and looking at him and just knowing. She's said more than once that she hopes Jackie will get to feel that. Of course, it wasn't exactly like that for her dad, who had the outline of the state of Virginia on his inner thigh since forever and fell in love with Mom before even knowing that was her first name. Jackie figures she's probably going to end up in the second camp -- if she ends up in any camp at all.

Her Mark showed up late, much to everyone's surprise. In everything else she'd been an early bloomer (first kiss by eleven, first boyfriend by thirteen, first girlfriend by thirteen and a half) but her tattoo didn't fill in until she nearly had a driver's license (though long after she'd lost her virginity, so she guesses there's that). She was dating a girl at the time -- gorgeous redhead with these beautiful green eyes and skin that looked like peaches and cream, and Jackie had been just about head over heels for her, lost in the whole idea, and then her tattoo had come in a week after they'd started, a coffee bean and hey Jackie drank more coffee than anyone she'd ever known in her life, maybe it was meant to be--

--until Jackie's tattoo came in.

Captain America's shield. No, she's not joking. Captain fucking America's shield. In what looks like sharpie, full color (rare, but not impossible), on her left wrist, bold as daybreak. And did she mention it looks like a fucking toddler drew it? Okay, maybe not a toddler, but definitely someone with less than stellar art skills. Her girlfriend, Gianna, took one look at it and broke their entire relationship off. Six months and all of it ended in five minutes.

"Well there's really no point, is there?" She'd asked, looking at Jackie as if she were an idiot for not understanding it. "We don't have a future, so why waste the present?" Jackie had just nodded, tried to keep from crying, and decided she was hiding the damn thing from there on out. She cried on her mom's couch for a day. Managed to go outside in a hoodie and jeans with her face puffy and her eyes red and then she got to see it on every tabloid for weeks. She hides her tattoo. She hides how she feels whenever she leaves the house. If people were going to use the tattoo to make all of their decisions about her up front, she was just going to keep them from knowing one way or the other. They'd have to get to know her first. And if the tabloids wanted to run pictures? They'd be ones she wanted them to see--Jackie Stark looking every bit the part her last name called her to be.

They were good lessons actually. Now that she looks back on it.

Even though she hated the idea at first and tried to talk Jackie out of it, it was her mom that got her the lambskin-leather band that covers the tattoo. It's hand-detailed and beautiful and it covers the shield completely. Jackie takes it off to shower and that's about it.

Business school was Pepper's idea too. Jackie would have been happy with just engineering, or hell, even just an internship with her Dad, but it's apparently not meant to be. So maybe she sleeps through a couple business courses. Maybe she doesn't exactly do her homework. But she's a genius, didn't she mention? And she also know the professor has a hard on for Stark Industries business plan. Whenever he gives her a mock-up assignment, she just turns in the latest figures for his weirdly obsessive market tracking and he gives her an A and they understand one another.

Besides, if she needs notes she can charm them from just about anyone. Except Morgan--she tried once, and the girl rebuked her hard and fast so she's put firmly in the 'do not engage, is likely a tight-ass' column and so she and Jackie haven't seen much of each other since then.

She is asleep when the professor calls her name, and it takes Scotty (decent looking, decent lay, good notes) nudging her awake for her to realize something has transpired, because Morgan The Tight Ass is giving her a death glare and everyone else seems to be pairing up for something.

"She's your partner," Scotty explains (ah, that makes more sense) before shrugging and heading towards his buddy -- Ludwig (gay, uninterested, nice pecs, way into school) to start jotting down notes. Jackie yawns and scrubs a hand over her face before pushing out of the seat and grabbing her bag to take it with her. Ten steps and she's standing in front of Morgan's desk.

"Hey, partner. I kind of missed the instructions there. Feel like catching me up?" Just because she's a tight ass doesn't mean the patented Jackie Stark Charming Smile won't work on her--well, maybe it does, but it's worth a shot, right? "We're doing what together? Or I mean, if it's open ended, I could make a few suggestions," The smile slides into something a little more sly and she throws in a wink for good measure. It wouldn't be the first time Jackie's slept with a partner to get out of doing a lion's share of the work, and for what it's worth Morgan isn't actually all that bad looking.

Yeah, she thinks she could manage.
bonsens: (get real)

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-17 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
Never before has Morgan felt betrayed by an assignment in college. There were a couple of high school classes in which she felt utterly betrayed (like the time when they had to treat a bag of flour like a baby, even though it's obviously not even baby shaped, for a week or the time when she was paired up with Sarah's -- all four of them -- for a geography project) but somehow it seemed like college would be above all of that. Except apparently it isn't. Except apparently she's destined to work with some people who can't be bothered to take their own notes and have short memories.

It's okay, she can roll with the punches here. Whatever it takes to get a good grade, right? Except then Jackie opens her mouth. It's not the words, not really. It's the smug smile and how it turns every word (even innocent ones) into innuendos and sends a blush creeping up the nape of Morgan's neck.

Morgan shuffles her papers into a neat pile and snaps her notebook shut around her carefully transcribed assignment-instructions. Most of it is still on the board, it's not like she's denying her "partner" any information here, really.

"If you had your nap before coming to class you wouldn't have that problem," she notes cooly and sweeps her books into her book bag (brown leather and heavy with textbooks for today's classes) before she stands and hitches the bag up on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll put both our names on the assignment when it's done. You don't need to do a thing except stay out of my way." It's a lot of work to do alone, but Morgan can manage. In her hurry to leave, she bumps her hip against the corner of her desk hard enough to bruise, and her sweeping exit becomes an embarrassing limp. Well. That went great.
practicallyroyalty: (bombshell)

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-17 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Jackie can count the number of times she's been left sputtering by someone in her life on one hand. It's just--not something that happens. Like she said, she doesn't take the whole 'American Princess'/'Closest Thing To American Royalty' thing to heart, but the fact of the matter is that people want to be around her. They want to hear what she has to say. If anyone does the leaving, it's Jackie and she does it long before people actually want her to go. Leave them wanting more--it's like, rule three of the Jackie Stark playbook and it's served her well except, apparently, with certain too-good-for-the-likes-of-you tight asses.

It takes exactly seven seconds for Jackie to realize what's happened and to make sense of the fact that Morgan is leaving (long enough for the girl in question to slam into her desk--ouch, that's got to hurt--and then limp toward the door) and then she's shaking it off and all but chasing after her. Well, it would be chasing, except Jackie does not chase, as a rule. She is the one chased. Always.

"Woah, hey!" She calls out, her fingers settling around Morgan's elbow and tugging, "Not so fast, Tiger. Come'n, we started on a bad foot. Give me another chance." Sure, it's tempting to just let this girl do all the work--Jackie does actually listen in class when most people think she's napping and Morgan knows what she's talking about. Like, actually knows, doesn't just do the bullshitting that Scotty and about fifty percent of the boys do, and it would be a pretty easy A, but now she's got her pride on the line, because if anything it looks like Morgan thinks Jackie doesn't know what she's talking about, which is incredibly far from the truth.

She's the heir to Stark Industries. She's been fed budgeting blueprints and board meetings and start-up proposals basically since she was born. Morgan should want her help, but the fact that she doesn't, well, it strikes a nerve. "I'm not going to let you do the project all on your own. I'm not useless." The obviously is unspoken, but it's heavily implied. "He matched us by GPA--obviously I'm right up there with you."
bonsens: (feelings are kinda hurt)

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-18 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
Before class, the lid of Morgan's coffee (purchased at the student coffee cart just around the corner from Starbucks, because Morgan is not made of money and four dollars for coffee is highway robbery) popped off as she hurried across campus to get to class on time. When a couple of drops of hot coffee sloshed over her fingers, said fingers bypassed her brain and dropped the coffee cup on the the rainsoaked ground. Morgan should have known then, as she watched the dark coffee swirl down the gutter and raindrops found their way down the back of her collar that today was going to be a lost cause.

The betrayal of the pairing aside, she could've done without the sharp pain radiating through her hip straight down to her toes, and she certainly could've done without her exit being ruined by a moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness. But this is apparently what her life is now. The fingers closing around her elbow and stopping her short are just icing on this particularly shitty cake. If there was any justness in the universe, she would've stormed out after having the last word and that would've been that.

There's a second (okay, two) where Morgan considers the tazer (gifted to her by Clint on the eve of her graduation from the very protected all-girls boarding school) tucked away neatly in her messenger bag. It would teach Jackie Stark a valuable lesson about personal space and the importance of keeping one's hands to oneself. But she settles for turning slowly and sending an icy glare down at the hand (with expertly manicured fingers) curled around her wrist. Don't touch me, written clearly across every tense muscle in her body.

Jackie's words have piled up like bricks, sitting on top of other bricks consisting of every minor (or major) annoyance of sharing the same class with Jackie Stark for nearly a year now. Picking just one to address is like playing a particularly unstable game of Jenga. (Tiger?)

Morgan stays quiet until Jackie's hand leaves her elbow, then her mouth twists in a too tight smile. "You turned in your last assignment on the back of a cocktail menu," she points out coldly. "I've never known you to stay awake for the entirety of class. I don't know how you earned your GPA and honestly I don't care. I have no interest in working with you."

There. Perfect. Morgan turns to leave, maybe she can still have both the last word and the dramatic exit. The rest of the class has mostly filed out, a couple of students are gathered in the corners of the room, catching up with their partners (far more useful than Morgan's, she's sure), and even the professor has gone. But then that damn Jenga tower collapses over one wobbling brick and she turns back around, jabbing a finger in Jackie's direction. "And for your information, we didn't start off on the wrong foot. We started off great. But I guess that's just another insignificant detail to you. Tiger."
practicallyroyalty: (smile)

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-21 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
Jackie's hand drops like it's touching something hot under that icy look, and she holds both of them up, trying to keep Morgan's wrath at bay. It doesn't exactly work, but then no one is taking a swing at her, so she figures it's pretty good tactics.

"Did we--" Jackie frowns, trying to wrack her brain for how, exactly, she's met this girl before. Maybe a party? There was a lot of freshman a couple years ago, or maybe it was the pool party at Kappa Chi--yeah, see, she can't quite place it. "Have we--" She waves a hand between them, trying to indicate in a polite way if she means they've fucked. It's not exactly out of the realm of possibility that Jackie's had sex with someone and totally forgotten about it. Especially if it was a party and there was a substance (or five) involved.

But then, woah, Morgan is insulting her GPA and she's got to step back a bit here and address that. "I turned my last assignment on a napkin, thank you very much. It was the one before that on the cocktail menu. And I got hundreds on both." She crosses her arms over her chest (it doesn't seem like Morgan will be attacking anytime soon) and snorts. "And I only sleep through the boring parts of the lecture. I mean, you know who my mom is, right? I don't exactly need to listen through supply and demand discussions--"
bonsens: (jackson)

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-21 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
Morgan's eyes track the erratic wave of Jackie's hands, brow furrowing as she tries to work out exactly what the hand gestures mean. It takes her longer than it should, frankly, and Jackie's moved on to the subject of her GPA (how does anyone get a complete grade for an assignment turned in on a damn napkin? Morgan turned her assignment in on three neatly typed pages. It seems impossible those two would be equivalent in any way).

"You think we slept together," Morgan interrupts, her voice managing to be both flat and insulted at the same time. "You are seriously that conceited?"

Actually, don't answer that. Morgan doesn't need to know. She holds up her hands defensively, then turns around to leave. She hitches her messenger bag up higher on her shoulder, shaking her head in disbelief. Around them, people are already talking excitedly about their projects and Morgan wishes desperately she was one of them. Maybe professor Hughes could be convinced to let her switch partners. It's obvious this isn't going to work out.
practicallyroyalty: (flirt)

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-21 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Okay so we didn't sleep together!" Jackie hedges, walking after Morgan and catching up to her, matching her stride. "Sorry. It's just--a lot of times when I don't know people and they know me, that's why! You can't blame me for that. For the record, I did find it hard to believe we'd slept together and I'd forgotten," See, this is a compliment. Morgan, you are officially memorable.

"How do we know each other then? Help a girl out here," She hitches her own bag up a little higher and follows as Morgan turns down a hallway she's pretty sure leads to a dead end. Jackie gets the feeling that she's being ditched here, but that's basically impossible because she is Jackie Stark and even memorable tight-asses don't want to ditch her, so she's just going to keep following Morgan until they get this figured out.

"And anyway, it's not like we're going to turn this in on a napkin. Your stuff looks way nicer than that. I'll provide half the content, you give the other half and then you fancy it up all professional like you do. Win-win."
bonsens: (not sure if angry or not)

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-21 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe if Morgan just ignores her for long enough, Jackie Stark will get bored and wander away. Maybe she'll even forget that they were supposed to partner up in the first place. A girl can dream. Morgan's damp Captain America chucks squeak against the floor with every determined step. She keeps her eyes focused on the hallway in front of them, refusing to so much as glance in Jackie's direction. It's not as easy to tune out Jackie's voice though, and the words wash over Morgan, tightening her muscles even further until they're set to snap.

The hallway ends and Morgan turns sharply. "This is my next class," she says, glancing over Jackie's shoulder at the door behind her. "You want to provide half the content, go for it. I'll pretty it up for the presentation and provide you a script to go with the slides. Okay? Happy?"
practicallyroyalty: (Default)

[personal profile] practicallyroyalty 2017-04-21 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
"You didn't tell me how we know each other!" Jackie protests, standing in front of her, one hand wrapped around the strap of her bag (designer, likely three times the price of most of the things Morgan has on), and the other on her hip. Otherwise she's less than impressive in her jeans and her hoodie -- or she would be if she wasn't Jackie Stark, but, y'know, since she is, she's always impressive.

"Besides, I feel like you're sort of pissed at me, which is entirely unfair because I didn't do anything to deserve you being pissed at me, because according to what you said earlier we didn't sleep together so there's no real way I broke your heart which is the only logical conclusion to why I'm getting the cold shoulder here."

She grins, pushes some of her hair over her shoulder and adds: "Also, I'm doing my share of the powerpoint. So there."
bonsens: (get real)

[personal profile] bonsens 2017-04-21 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
Stunned disbelief is quickly becoming the refrain of this day; Morgan can't quite believe the words coming out of Jackie's mouth.

"You want to know why I'm angry? You don't take any of this seriously." Morgan gestures at the hallway and the people slipping past them to make their classes, but referencing the college at large.

"Turning up late, sleeping through classes, and handing in half-assed assignments written on whatever was closest when you woke up with five minutes to get to class is all good and well for you. You fail out, aunt Pep can just buy a research lab and you'll get a second chance. Or maybe you'll take a gap year, travel the world and then start over as many times as you like. But I'm on a scholarship. This matters to me. I don't maintain my GPA, I'm not guaranteed a spot next year."

Some people have started to slow down, casting surreptitious glances at Jackie. Some drawn by her well-known face, some by the raised voices. "So excuse me if I'd rather do this on my own than trust that you'll take something seriously for once."
thesefirststeps: (Default)

Rey | SW: TFA | OTA

[personal profile] thesefirststeps 2017-05-16 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)