thursday pic prompt

[basslines]

the picture prompt meme

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY.

link to an image: <a href="IMAGEURL">TEXT</a>

embed an image in your reply: <img src="IMAGEURL">

control width and height: <img src="IMAGEURL" width="INSERT"> OR <img src="IMAGEURL" height="INSERT">

Comments

kasumi goto • mass effect

[stealwithit]

hana song (d.va) • overwatch

[bunnyhopped]

Todd the Wraith // Stargate Atlantis

[commandshumor]

[ooc: please link images]

2.

[letmebebrave]

[ The navigation circuits are on the fritz again. It's a hard landing, and the TARDIS powers down once it's materialized. ]

Need a rest, do you? Figures.

Oh, all right, all right. You do what you need to do, I'll be back.

[ She makes sure she has her key and she steps out the doors, grateful her ship had had the sense to put himself down in an out of the way corner, down an alley.

There's movement up ahead. People running. Is that shouting?

She goes to investigate, curious. As soon as she steps out of the alley she's nearly swept up by a crush of people, all running in one direction.

She flattens herself against a wall, watching them all go by. Then she grabs someone by their sleeve, halting them a moment. ]

Sorry--what's going on here?

idefk but here we go anyway

[twelveoclock]

[ X | X | X ]

the tenth doctor | doctor who | ota

[timeywimeystuff]

[ ota for gen. m/f for fluff. no smutty prompts, please! ]

takao kazunari | kuroko no basuke

[pedal]

[ m/m for ships or smut, ota for gen! ]

[uncovers]

WILDCARD.

[gunned]

rey | star wars (rule 63 au)

[rummaging]

[ open to m/f and m/m. no rens pls. ]

[willrevile]

There was a time when Jim would have given anything to be able to properly empathize with Ambassador Spock - to be able to understand him genuinely, and not just from the forced depth of their mind meld, so that the older Vulcan would be less alone. Now, though, struggling with the realization that he might not actually be able to get back to his own time and dimension, a part of him kind of wants to kick the guy in the teeth.

Not that he can. Hacking into the station's Starfleet network let him learn where he is and when he is; Spock's on Romulus. Incommunicado is an understatement.

And for the record it's weird as hell being here in the future on the station he previously only knew of as Terok Nor, the place where, eventually, the entire universe was maybe-probably going to collapse in on itself because of ... ridiculous Dominion-Wraith-Cardassian reasons; he's glad to see that not every future leads to that point, but it's still disorienting on top of an already disorienting experience. (Damnit, Q.)

Because this is Ambassador Spock's universe and not his, Jim knows he doesn't look like what the Starfleet of this world will remember of Captain Kirk. And because he sees Deep Space Nine and can only think of the future he experienced, one where the Federation fell decades ago, he hasn't approached anyone yet. He's watched, though. Through hacking and through hustling in bars (some skills never leave a guy), and through occasionally peering at Starfleet officers from a distance.

Like this one. The counselor, whose exact position in the piecemeal crew he's get to feel out. Maybe it's time for something closer than from a distance.

"Buy you a drink?"

[ brackets are okay if you prefer those o/ i'm using this, for context. ]

au-ing this a little away from the last ep

[databreach]

[ It hadn't been anything earth-shattering but somehow, kissing Elliot had been all the more poignant for it, important, weighty and soft. She'd been both taken aback and expecting it at once, some strange purgatory between, throwing her senses out of whack and her determination faltering. He's so slight in his hoodie, familiar and pulled up over his head, the first time she's seen him in months without a plate of bulletproof plexiglass between them and her plans derail before she can catch herself, stepping off the train after him, slipping her fingers right back into his.

They don't speak on their way back to his apartment. It's pointless now to duck into alleyways and switch taxis, but Angela catches herself doing it anyways, always looking over her shoulder, anxiety itching at her palms, the back of her neck. But Elliot is focused and grimly calm, and it shouldn't settle her at all, and it manages to just the same. His flat is threadbare and scavenged when they finally slip in the door, deadbolting it behind them as if a plank of wood and a delicate metal chain can keep out the FBI, the Dark Army. She hasn't let go of his hand once, stepping quietly past the off kilter table in the center of the room, pulling Elliot carefully with her until the backs of their knees hit the couch, settling down beside each other in tandem. Feeling very small, like the same freckle faced little girl who used to hold Elliot's hand just like this, Angela curls up against his side, wrinkling her expensive suit jacket without a second thought. It doesn't matter anymore. ]

I'll make sure Qwerty's taken care of. [ Soft, against the curve of his shoulder, she tugs their hands up into her lap, her thumb catching over the ridges of his knuckles slowly. ] I'd give you the keys to my apartment, but they're watching me more than you right now.

gahhh so much excitement! *A*

[shadowblends]

Flaxen hues met brilliant azure and Kurt's chest constricted at the sudden grip of his senses. His breath hitched, pupils dilating at the almost painful intrusion, the outstretched hand involuntarily clenching around the book. He was frozen in place, unable to even think clearly, let alone send a message to his brain to move away; it was a whole new feeling altogether - this strange effort to keep him out, even though there was no way he could have gotten in, unless allowed to do so.

And just as quickly as it had come, the pressure was gone, leaving his mind reeling in response. Sharp claws loosened on the bound pages and the item toppled to the floor as the demon-eyed male inhaled sharply, took a step back and reached to clutch the sides of his head. He hunched forward, doing his best to breathe slowly, deeply, in an attempt to regain the equilibrium he had lost for a moment.

The calling of his name and the concern in Charles' voice allowed him to drift back into reality, both hands lowering to his sides, though he didn't dare try to move for fear of ending up on the floor. "I-I'm fine," he stammered, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the haze and focus his attention on the telepath. "You ... cried out in your sleep."

[battletested]

01 | 02 | 03

hey there fellow grandpa

[doggo]

There are limits to freedom, and they go like this:

Never assume that you are safe. Never assume you're not looked for. Curfews. Closed curtains. Meals at home. Avoid villages and public spaces. Keep indoors if possible. If you must go out, charms. And never stay out for long.

But Sirius has long had his own disguise, better than charms or false beards or anything like that. It's what got him out of Azkaban--that, and the bleak knowledge of his own innocence, a poor sort of talisman to hold against darkness unfathomable.

Remus hasn't said how he came by this cottage. Sirius hasn't much pressed the issue. He doesn't know that he wants to know the answer. Thinking of it in those terms feels like bedding down in a corner somewhere, turning nose to tail, turning inward. This is also something he has had a long time to practice at.

It's the company he finds himself most unused to. There is only one bedroom, and one bed. They trade off. Sometimes Sirius makes a joke about it. Sometimes he sleeps under the bed, or rather, Padfoot does. The narrow sofa in the parlor is covered in black dog hair and sags rather more in the middle than it used to. When Sirius wakes up, it's usually with a start, with the bedsheets stuck to his chest with sweat. And then the smell of tea, which is something so clean and simple he barely knows what to do with it.

Crossword puzzles, awful ones, out of the muggle newspapers Remus fetches from the village. Trying out this shit and borrowed wand. One afternoon, rather late, Sirius is going through the cupboards because he can't stand doing nothing any longer, because he's wearing a tract in the floorboards, and while he's rummaging he finds a bottle of brandy.

"Is it yours?" He turns around and presents the bottle to Remus, who is sat across the room. "Didn't take you for having grown up to be a brandy man, Lupin."

Lupin is easier to say than Moony, sometimes. If he thinks about it. The bottle is dusty. Sirius swipes a thumb across the label and reads it aloud. "'Dragon Barrel'. A man of middling taste, anyways."

torbjörn lindholm | OVERWATCH

[torbjorn]

[ voicetesting ]

Yosuke | P4

[yosekay]

[canon and cross canon welcome]

sherlock holmes | sherlock | ota

[vaticancameos]

[komarran]

1, 2, 3

you better be glad i like you

[doggo]

[bunnyhopped]

[ When the older people in Overwatch suggested that they all go on a "team-building retreat," Hana did not anticipate said retreat being a road trip. The organization has a powerful aerial base, after all, why couldn't they just take that to wherever they're going.

And then she learned that not only was it a road trip, it was also a camping trip, and she nearly died. Like, nearly actually died, and she felt her soul leaving her body. (No, she didn't, that's an exaggeration, but the Overwatch veterans certainly got a Reaction out of her.)

So off they went, however many of them, split in to different cars, all packed with camping supplies and luggage and essentials. Which, to Hana, obviously means a charging port to plug into the car that lets her charge her phone, her portable gaming console(s) and the portable charging block(s) that will let her charge her gadgets while out in the Awful Wilderness. And essential nourishment like soda and chips and candy. Somehow, she's ended up riding shotgun in the car that McCree is driving (though don't ask her to take a shift, because this girl does not know how to drive), but for the most part she's either sleeping, eating, or playing a game, which makes her a poor road trip buddy, but seriously why couldn't they just take the airship. It's been quiet save for whatever music McCree has decided to play and the sounds of Hana's multiple devices chiming, but now she breaks it to reveal a very important piece of news: ]

I have to pee.

elena fisher | uncharted | ota

[tearsinajar]

( m/f for anything shippy )

EOBARD!WELLS | THE FLASH | OTA

[practicerestraint]

[lord_godalming]

001 | 002 | 003

[willrevile]

Very pretty hair. Most men seem to really love long hair, and Jim's-- well, Jim's almost an exception, because he doesn't actually care one way or the other. It's the way Nyota uses hers like a well-crafted extension of her body that ends up distracting him like a crow presented with something shiny. He wants to see it when she doesn't do it straight, too, as he suspects it's even more beautiful, but he also doesn't want to get the My Patience Is Thinning, White Boy look. Someday he'll magically think of the right words and ask.

"But you found one!" he says, grinning. "And you were smiling at me at first before I got my face kicked in. I knew. I could sense you were there looking for Iowan losers with questionable relations with farm animals. Little did you know you'd end up here, instead of using me in a science project..." Jim rolls onto his back, head upside down over the edge of the bed. Still smiling.