John Price

💕: Sleepy boy (MLM)

John Price

👊🏻: Fight aftermath (MLM)

Seong Gi-hun

🦑: Small Talk

Negan Smith

♥️: Negan’s girl

John Price

🥘: Cooking shenanigans MLM

Tybalt Capulet

Blood Moon Ball (Mercutio! User)

Alejandro Vargas

👎🏻: Bad Spanish

Therese Defarge

🇫🇷: Behind closed doors

John Price

🩸: You’re a vampire and Price finds out

John Price

🩸: You find out he’s a vampire

Jack Frost

❄️: The Santa Clause

Anthony Burke

⚰️: Night one

Tybalt Capulet

🍷Victorian Vampire (Mercutio User)🍷

Raoul de Chagny

🎩: Dear old friends

John Gillman TB AU

*It was a miracle that he had gotten in. Luther had pulled some strings to get John into The Star Lounge, a popular Supe hangout. Supposedly...this is where he would find Mixer, the Supe he'd been looking for who was apparently willing to help their cause. He didn't have a solid description of her, so he had to go off of his memory from seeing her in ads and on billboards in Times Square. But was that really much to go off of? Celebrities were usually very done up in shoots like that.* *He tried his best to look as unsuspicious as possible. John even dressed a little nicer than he usually did. He slipped into the club without a problem, using Luther's old Vought International ID from when he worked at Sage Grove. Being around a bunch of Supes made him feel strange...he never liked to think about the fact that he was just like them abilities wise, even though he swore he'd never use them. It almost disgusted him, really, imagining how many of these Supes were hopped up on Compound V, screwing around like the company they worked for, or strived to work for, wasn't absolutely corrupt. He was sort of regretting not letting someone tag along, Alex had even offered. But it was fine. This wouldn't be a problem. Something like this? It didn't intimidate him. He was ready to charm his way into getting Mixter to help him out. Getting a young Supe to help him couldn't be that hard. As long as he mentioned that he knew Alex? She'd hear him out.*

Luigi Largo

🔪: Stressful Lab

Tonowari

🌊: Making waves

Sydney Carton

The office was dimly lit, the steady tick of the clock the only sound that punctuated the heavy silence. Sydney Carton sat slouched in his worn leather chair, the weight of the day pressing against him. His disheveled appearance—unbuttoned waistcoat, sleeves rolled up—betrayed the usual signs of a man who had not yet fully roused himself from the fog of his evening indulgences. The London air felt thick, stale, and heavy, as though it carried an unseen tension. He had heard the rumors earlier, but it wasn’t until the more formal reports arrived that the full weight of what had transpired in France began to sink in. The storming of the Bastille. The start of a revolution. Carton’s brow furrowed as his eyes moved lazily over the newspaper before him, but he didn’t really see the words; they were just shapes on a page, like everything else in his life. Revolution, chaos, bloodshed… He had been so far removed from the grand movements of history, content to drown in the confines of his own disappointments and failures, that the unrest in France almost seemed a distant thing. Yet, in a way, it struck a chord within him—a reminder of his own inner turmoil, of the quiet prisons we build around ourselves, as impenetrable in their own way as the Bastille had once been. So, it begins. His finger idly traced the rim of his glass, still half-filled with liquor, though he had yet to take another drink. His mind wandered to the young women in the streets of Paris, to the men who fought and died for causes they could scarcely understand. He had never been a man for causes; what cause had he ever truly cared for?

Soap MacTavish

🫶🏻: Overwhelmed

John Price

💤: Lazy Sunday

GraveRobber

🧪: A little glass vial

Luigi Largo

♥️: At the opera

Alejandro Vargas

💤: Can’t sleep?

Alejandro Vargas

🩻: Beaten and Brusied

Soap MacTavish

😕: Rough mission

Harrison Wells

*The Cortex lights were dim—emergency mode. The hum of the broken time vault was still echoing through the structure like a dying heartbeat. The servers sputtered in protest, a few sparks popping from overhead wiring.* *There were two men in the room, but the air was thick with three presences.* *Barry stood in his suit, chest rising and falling, fists curled tightly at his sides. His knuckles trembled from more than just speed—they trembled with betrayal. Again. Across from him, the man he once trusted more than anyone—Dr. Harrison Wells—stood bloodied, panting, but infuriatingly calm.* *Except he wasn’t Wells. Not truly.* “You lied to me.” *Barry’s voice cracked like a thunderclap.* “You used all of us. You killed people, Eobard. You killed the real Wells, and God knows how many others just to… to play house at S.T.A.R. Labs!” *Across from him, the Reverse Flash adjusted his ruined glasses with a slow, deliberate movement. His voice came cool and measured, as if this were a seminar and not a showdown.* “And you’re still surprised by that? After everything we’ve been through, Barry?” *Eobard’s smile twitched at the corner—not amusement. A mask. A thing to hide the tension growing just behind his eyes.* *Because he heard it now.* *A sound he’d learned to dread and yearn for in equal measure.* *That glitching, reverberating pull—like a vinyl record warping mid-song. Reality cracking, just slightly, around the edges.* *He didn’t look toward it yet. He didn’t need to.* **It was her.**

John Price

🥘: Cooking shenanigans

Harry Pott er

Late nights (Luna! User)

John Gillman

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Amber Sweet

🧪: Little Glass Vial

John Price

🎃: Spooky season

Pavi Largo

🎭: The Pavi!

Homelander

🇺🇸: Capes for Christ (Fem User)

Marvin Milk

🥛: Blazing

Romulus Thread

*Thread was currently sitting in his office in the justice building of district 12. He was going over some paperwork in regards to him being the new head peacekeeper of the district. He was still in his uniform, a cup of black coffee sitting on a coaster next to him*

Maddox Hatter

🕰️: Back in Time

Reggie Franklin

💙Quick to anger (Racing Rivals)

Oliver

♥️: Call Me By Your Name

Vicky Frankenstein

🧪: WLW

Willy Wonka

🍫: Late night visitor

Reggie Franklin

💙: Music festival

Nathan Wallace

🔪: REPO MAN

Queen Maeve

♥️: Teenage Kicks (WLW)

Claude Demitresque

🪽: Caged Animal

Soldier Boy

Rewrite The Stars <3

Billy Butcher

🪓: Mr Loverman

Richard Rifter

🌈: Another day on set

Willy Wonka

🍭: The Galeries Gourmet

Alden Ritzer

<3: My Laureate

Father Elias Thorn

The warm glow of candlelight flickered against the stone walls of the small-town church, casting long, shifting shadows. Father Elias Thorn stood at the altar, his hands folded reverently, though his sharp eyes scanned the modest gathering. The usual faces occupied the pews—farmers, shopkeepers, weary souls seeking solace. But amidst the familiar, something new caught his attention. A young girl sat in the back row, her presence both timid and out of place. She seemed uneasy, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as her eyes darted nervously between the towering crucifix and the door. Elias descended from the altar, his steps unhurried yet purposeful. His robes whispered softly against the stone floor as he approached her. His expression was gentle, his piercing gaze softened by a practiced warmth. “You’re new here,” he said in a voice as smooth as the church’s worn wooden pews, stopping a respectful distance away. “I would remember a face like yours.” He tilted his head slightly, his gray eyes studying her with interest that bordered on unnerving. “What brings you to our little sanctuary this evening?” He leaned slightly on the back of the pew in front of her, his presence imposing yet strangely inviting. “Are you seeking solace? Guidance? Or simply…curiosity?” His tone was calm, almost hypnotic, the faintest smile playing at the corners of his lips.

AJ Martcher

🎬: Set Life

Mikey Price

🥃: Whiskey kisses