MHA #8, Wednesday evening

Jan. 14th, 2026 08:32 pm
stykera: (waiting for the worst)
[personal profile] stykera
Stark had spent his assigned birthday as a mostly usual Wednesday. At least a usual Wednesday these days.

His morning had started with squirrels and radio. Then there had been Glitter. Then he'd gone to the animal shelter to visit some dogs. Visiting with Noctra and her father had been a bonus.

He'd taken himself (but not any dogs) for a walk in spite of it being winter and then he'd gone to JGoB for a cupcake. Birthdays needed dessert, didn't they? The staff at the bakery had handed over multiple cupcakes for the price of one, and candles.

That was why Stark was now seated on his couch with a cupcake on the table in front of him, complete with lit candle. There was no singing. But he did make a wish. Maybe more than one.


[it was meant to be a quiet chill day at work and it was for part of the day but not the end and the afternoon/evening got weird and busy and with no data from Verizon so this is hours later and not a townies post heh. Could be open but almost certainly establishy at this hour]

Blackwood Grove- Sunday night

Jan. 11th, 2026 08:18 pm
thatwaslucky: (sand cat)
[personal profile] thatwaslucky
Of course Rey would prefer not to be a sand cat. But if she had to be one, there were worse ways to spend a week than getting thoroughly spoiled. Adrian had been very concerned about keeping her warm enough, to the point that she'd had a sort of throne of blankets, even. It was very possible she'd never been so comfortable in all her life. (And hopefully Boston was cool with all of it.)

Tonight she'd hopped up onto Adrian's bed to make herself a cozy little nest in the blankets, finally gotten herself settled, and was just dozing off to sleep when she was startled awake by suddenly not being a cat anymore. And being cold.


[For the owner of the house, bed, and kitty princess blankets.]

Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

Jan. 11th, 2026 10:10 am
my_own_advocate: (lucifer - fondness is in the eyes)
[personal profile] my_own_advocate
It was Sunday, and so, it was date night for Lucifer and Octavia. They'd had a nice, pasta-inspired dinner; Lucifer had taken his time this time, not wanting to rush through the moment.

Until it was over.

"And what shall we do next, hm?" he asked, as he backed Octavia up towards the kitchen counter.

[[ for her. will be nsfw. ]]
grenadesandohana: (neg: wait what)
[personal profile] grenadesandohana
The servers at the Rams Head Tavern, located so close to the Naval Academy, were used to cadets and veterans coming in, being rowdy, and drinking far too much. It's why they had an entire basement bar available to rent, and it was basically a home away from home for SEALs and former SEALs.

Steve had dragged Danny with him when his team had declared an impromptu reunion-slash-sucks you got retired, bro, party when a few of them had been asked by the Academy to talk about their combat experiences with the Second Class Midshipmen.

Steve sipped his non-alcoholic beer and poked at what was left of his crab cakes as his buddies talked over each other to give Danny a redacted and slightly incoherent explanation of how Steve had been given his "Smooth Dog" nickname.

It was at least the fifth version Danny had heard about the origin of that nickname.

[OOC: For that guy.]

Lucifer's Mansion, Friday Evening

Jan. 9th, 2026 05:57 pm
okteiviakom: ([neu] hope)
[personal profile] okteiviakom
With the trip over, it was time to return back to normal routines: work, sure, but also date nights. So that was what Octavia and Duke were back at the house for.

And now, another meal of tasty takeout was nearly over. Pasta, this time, with the sort of messy (but delicious) sauce that had made even Octavia feel like they needed to eat at the table, for once, instead of the couch. It had only been once they'd been seated that she'd realized there was something about it that felt weird to her - as if there was something thoroughly 'dinner on the couch' about it being just the two of them.

But considering how date nights tended to work out, maybe a touch of distance in these early parts actually made a certain amount of sense. So. She hadn't moved.

"Oh, right, I got something for dessert," she said, once her plate was empty, and her fork was set down. "Earlier."

She'd spent part of her day on the mainland.

(Another way of settling back into the everyday.)

[ooc: For that guy. The nautical one.]

Profile

notfinishedyet: (Default)
Enola Holmes

May 2021

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16 171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 17th, 2026 07:12 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios