Feb 9, 2021
don’t get too close to that garden that she’s growing ... 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨 . / eden emerson , muse penned by @theyadonis .
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don’t get too close to that garden that she’s growing ... 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨 . / eden emerson , muse penned by @theyadonis .
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which of your muses has the strictest morning routine? who has the opposite? what are they like?
ask me questions about my muses / accepting !
strictest is def jill. like no doubt about it. she was in the military, & then she was in an elite taskforce, so she’s use to schedule. she’s usually up by 6:30, goes for her run/workout, comes back & gets her breakfast, then starts whatever she needs to (mission, field work, investigating, research, etc.)
the worst person with morning routine is emmy. she goes to bed at 3am, wake up, open the store with her employee at 5am (she opens early for the morning crowd), and then sleeps till 2. like, she’s crazy. she needs to be told to go to bed or be woken up constantly.
@theyadonis !
Shoes click loudly against the marble floors of the court house. Noah offers nods to those he passes in the halls. Two coffees warm his palms, his bag sits loosely on his shoulder, and bumps against his leg with every step he takes. He enjoys the feeling, against his leg, the soft reminder of his lost love swims in the back of his mind. His steps falter for a moment when he sees her step out into the hall. She hasn’t noticed him, she’s busy on her phone, an email, probably. As he approaches, he holds out the coffee for her. ❛ Miss Emerson. ❜ A smile graces his features. Always keep a friendly face. ❛ Your case went well, I presume ? ❜ He waits until her hand encloses around the cup. Once he has a free hand, he turns, and they fall in step together. ❛ I was hoping I could bend your ear on the Cartwell case. You have a minute ? ❜
Today was the day. Even the weather was acknowledging. The sun beat down in busy New York City.
New York had to be the most exciting city in the world. Din admired it’s vibrancy, the assurance, the fast pace. He was finally here.
He’d successfully landed a job at a wonderful, Marks Paneth LLP, unable to believe his luck. Working for a major accounting firm in Manhattan was anyone’s dream.
The sheer energy of the city seeped through his skin and into his veins, a constant shot of adrenaline. Here, he could be whoever he wanted. He could live his life without being questioned over his plans, how he was doing, any of that. In the breathless bustle that was New York City, folks were too busy thinking about themselves to have time to think about anyone else. Interaction skimmed the surface and never went deep, he was merely a part of the crowd.
He had decided to start the day off light. He grabbed a coffee from his newfound favorite shop, and was on his way to the bookstore.
The door chimes as he swings it open, taking a sip of the black coffee as he looks around excitedly. His eyes scanned every corner of the store, curious to see what he could find.
New York City. The city that never sleeps. Even at night, life bustles around with shift changes and partygoers. But when the city is covered in a thick blanket of snow, that’s when New York rests. People are home-bound, spending the day indoors without any call to go outside. Most work cancelled for the day, schools are empty, and the streets are but a snowy white canvas with the occasionally stroke of tire tracks and footprints of all sorts painted across it, in every direction.
Mirai jumped into her boots at the door, groaning as she quickly slipped into her parka.
Of course David had decided it was necessary the coffee shop stayed open today.
❛ Yes.. Yes, I’m on my way! I’ll be there in half an hour. ❜ She grumbles into the speaker of her phone, just as quickly hanging up as she shoves it into the pocket of her jacket.
❛ I’ll be back later, Chewie! ❜ She shouts into the apartment, halfway out the door. The small horse-sized dog perks his head up from his bed, barking in response.
Her boots crunch in the snow as she walks down the street, staring down at the screen in front of her again, which dimly lit her face. It was still early, still dark outside. The city seemed to be resting for now.
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--- You don't need to save me ; but would you run away with me ?
❝ bruce! ❞ brooke gasps. cut leg, arm bruised, but brooke doesn't stop running from the building until she's securely in bruce's arms. she nearly tackle hugs him, still reeling from the attack she'd just faced in her own office at the daily planet. the assailant had been so caught up in her name... the wayne aspect of it. ❝ please don't let me go. please. ❞
@theyadonis .
------- @theyadonis / dean.
she's leaning against the wall, partly because standing too long hurts, but also because she doesn't want to keep sitting any longer. blair wants to keep moving, keep the fight going. but it looks like dean's about to play the survivor's guilt card on her about what played out a few weeks back with the hellhounds. little does he know, she doesn't really care what he said: she refuses to stay on the sidelines. ❝ can we go ahead & skip over all the emotional shit where you tell me you can't keep putting my life on the line? 'cause i swear winchester, i can still take you. ❞