#please dont feel a need to match!

[bittcrsuite]

closed starter for @gldnhour ♡

stevie was nervous. admittedly, she always got the jitters before events — the entire day was a nightmare for her. her favorite parts of the band were the moments when it was just her and the music. whether it was writing or playing in front of crowds, stevie lived for the rush of creating something special with her friends. their first album changed their lives. it officially put them on the map, giving them a fighting chance to make music their full time gig. it gave them room to breathe — to see that packing up their lives and following a slightly sketchy talent manager to california wasn’t the worst idea. stevie looked in her dressing room mirror one last time. they’d been in the venue for a little over an hour, each of them being rushed to their dressing room upon entry. the party was meant to be a surprise, one that stevie couldn’t exactly prepare for despite her and isaac’s debut as a couple tonight. goddamnit — it was now or never. she collected her things, turning on her heel as she strode out of her dressing room and knocked on isaac’s door. what she should be doing is spending her last free moments with josh. they had another long conversation that morning about his expectations with her and isaac’s relationship. minimum kissing, as little touching as possible. it was rule after rule. the longer the list became, the more stevie wanted to break them all with her best friend.

things were weird — only made weirder by the fact that she couldn’t decipher how she was feeling about isaac. they both woke up the next day and decided things were normal. she hadn’t had another moment with him since stevie stumbled her way out of his home the other night. she couldn’t tell if it was a one time feeling or if she’d feel the same want when they coupled up. after a beat of silence, she turned the knob, popping her head in with an easy grin on her face. at the sight of isaac in his fancy party attire, the want immediately resurfaced. all of stevie’s thoughts left her mind. all she could focus on was him. his dark eyes, his full lips. what was happening to her? “you look so handsome, is.” she blurted out, eyes skimming over his reflection in the mirror as she let the door close behind her. “i just wanted to see how you’re feeling… you know, about project steviaac launching tonight?” she tried to make it sound as playful as possible, as though pretending to be a couple was still no biggie. she approached him from behind, leaning down to rest her chin on his shoulder. she met his eyes in the mirror, gaze heated enough to really question if she should be touching him at all. "d'you still wanna be my boyfriend, reis?"

[autonomousxselves]

@shadowedresolve Plotted starter for Toshiro and Ken ^.^

A beautiful sunny day in Tokyo, early 2017. The air may hold onto its chill for now but the late winter sun promised the cycle of the seasons to continue on as usual. Looking up to the sky, the young man passes through crowds of people, the density of which making his hometown feel almost small in comparison. Perhaps Ken should have tried to take the subway further. Looking down at his side, Koromaru pads along at a consistent, proud stride. Somehow, he doubts they would get very far in most trains with even the best behaved dogs trying to board. It's far too late to reconsider now, though. Soon, they would be at the meeting spot with a very important person.

The Shadow Ops. For the time being, he was working alongside old friends and new coworkers alike. Regardless of the conditions, Ken couldn't say he wasn't enjoying some of the pros of the team. The current head, his senpai Mitsuru Kirijo, had finally entrusted him with his own mission. It was little more than an interrogation, but the weight of the answers would bring about further investigations to this area if they were right. The Shadows.... If they were really here last year, then it would be priceless information. The red skies and bones looming overhead filled his mind again; it had only been for a short time and few people seemed to notice it despite the horrible imagery. It still sends a shiver down his spine, but he had seen something very similar before, around seven years ago now. It had to be related, somehow. He turns his gaze back up to the now normal, bright, blue sky that held nothing but the promise of a clear cool day.

After a short time, the pair arrive at the agreed upon location. Unlike for normal political interviews and press conferences, this interrogation was to be off the radar as the unofficial, quiet group gathered the necessary details. Ken pushes down a childish wave of excitement and reminds himself of the seriousness of the situation, holding his best poker face as he heads through the halls. Besides, what kind of person would this man be? His curiosity was almost as strong as his wariness. Certainly most politicians of this level wouldn't agree to answer these questions, especially not in private where they won't get the fame for their 'opinions' nor without any security in the room.

With a knock, the young man enters the room he would find this politician in, walking in with a purposeful expression and posture. Koromaru held about the same, or higher, regard in his own steps. Letting the door close and click behind him, Ken looks over the man he's been looking forward to talking with. Only a handful of years older than himself, impressively. The youngest diet member of recent...

"Toshiro Kasukabe. I'm sure you've been told what this is about. Please answer everything truthfully to the best of your abilities. What led to the events of Christmas Eve, 2016?"

[n7punk]

where's that post about the rewards (having tattoo) requires the mortifying ordeal of being know (talking to tattoo artist)

[hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe]

i have two moods :😔 crippling depression and anxiety making it hard to stay alive 😔

and ✨️pop icon in the bathroom✨️

[imflyingfish]

Sigh

[barebcnes]

Plotted, closed starter for @paramounticebound ♥

There's something surreal about the situation he's in; In fact, absolutely fucking everything is surreal about it, and yet here Leonard is, with his fingers swiping across what is essentially ancient technology, so old in fact that he had to do a proper amount of research before even attempting to put his fingers to good use.

Actually, part of him keeps wondering - why does he do this? Why the fuck did he decide to be here, right now, instead of staying somewhere nice for the duration of the Enterprise's repair? He could be literally anywhere, residing at a damn beach maybe, accompanied by a nice drink (Bourbon, definitely) and the ocean beneath his feet while recovering from the recent events.

But no, he's not. Leonard McCy is currently standing in what is most familiar to him: An Infirmary. Not just any, however, but a high-security one belonging to Starfleet, currently housing seventy-two (no, seventy-three!) frozen patients.

Soon it will be seventy-two, however, because guess what: McCoy is actually thawing one of them right now, the one that has caused a massive path of destruction (and a lot of headaches on top of that!). Perhaps he should question himself a bit more; He's absolutely fucking sober and yet here he is, having volunteered to do exactly that.

"---Gonna end up in hell, I guess.", is what he mumbles to himself as the pod opens; He's holding a data-padd in his free hand, continiously scanning the one with that familiar face, making sure he's not dying on him. Putting him back into cryosleep had been the most logical thing to do, but... dammit, he's a living being, that guy named Khan, and he deserves to get a fucking trial like everyone else would.

And, besides that, there might be more to him, actually. More to his story than what they all know by now...

Perhaps that's why Leonard is here. At least to a certain degree. He's human, he's sworn an oath, he's a doctor, all of those things have brought him where he currently is. I can handle him, he's said a few days ago, I have seen what he can do, I have studied his blood - at least a bit, I didn't have much time - and I know what he's capable of. Besides that, I'm a doctor, I have performed an emergency c-section on a damn pregnant Gorn, I know how to wake up patients from ancient cryosleep! (Not that said c-section has anything to do with handling 300 years old icicles, but still...)

Anyways - Does he know? No time to question anything - because McCoy is already here, and he cannot leave anymore. Fuck.

"---Easy.", is what he says next, as soon as he sees a spike within Khan's vitals. It must be unpleasant to wake up under such conditions - the body remains cold for a while, suspects start shivering in an attempt to warm themselves up, nausea usually appears as well as dizzyness and confusion. As much as the anger about what has happened mere days ago still boils within the doctor's core - he's just that, a doctor. He cares for his patients, even if one of them is named Khan Noonien Singh.

Who has been frozen - and thawed - twice by now, on top of it all. It must be even more unpleasant to go through that whole deal multiple times within a rather short amount of time.

"Easy, easy.", he repeats like a mantra, hazel eyes flicking back and forth, focusing on his data-padd and on the man's features. His heart-rate is quite high, which is normal, but also a bit concerning, all things considered. "---It's just cryosleep. You're waking up from it. Try to remain calm and take even, deep breaths..." Easier said than done, but still - Leonard is at least trying to comfort that Augment here.

[dakotaheise]

location: bread and butter

closed to; @harlowmiller

----

It should never surprise anyone whenever Dakota rushed into any location, and yet almost tripping over her own feet to enter Bread and Butter took the old ladies she'd serenade whenever she was trying to get Harlow to smile almost looked like they were almost going to have a heart attack. "Shoot, do not knock over inventory, Harlow will kill you."

Behind the counter was empty, so Dakota took her chance and slid a few bills into the tip jar, under some already there. What Harlow did not know, did not hurt Dakota. Now her sisters planning trips home at different times? That might.

"Right on. Get this, get coffee...today ain't gonna kill me." She was more than willing to wait, too. Longer she waited, longer it was before she had to help finish getting the house ready.

As she waited, she couldn't help but chuckle at one of the old ladies expressing disappointment she hadn't brung her guitar along today.

"Next time, promise. Sister's coming home, gotta...in a rush. Don't worry. I'm gettin' it all nice and tuned since Harlow wants to declare me the serenader of Covington and whatnot."

[miercabre]

wednesday had come to the conclusion that she didn’t particularly like her cousin.     the dupois boy walked with an air of arrogance that fit right into the social scene of nevermore.    asides from his dark hair and piercing eyes that threatened to pry hidden secrets out from the depths of her chest,    he didn’t strike her as much of an addams.    her mother had insisted that nevermore would feel like home away from home with her kin studying beside her.    but so far,    nevermore had only come to feel like a twisted reimagining of dante’s inferno if the layers of hell were teeming with teenage outcasts in place of fiery demons.    it was nothing like home and the only comfort she found in @proditeur's company was finally having a live target for practice.

the large windows of the school cast long shadows down the hallways and wednesday moved like a somber ghost through its maze.    she was a girl with a goal in mind and her steadfast pace made all in her path part down the middle.    even in a school of outcasts they feared her.    just how she liked it.     wednesday came to an abrupt stop above the mouth of the foyer,    pale hands reaching out to grab the railing overlooking the entrance of nevermore.    her dark eyes rolled skywards to catch glimpse of thing,   perched on the edge of the hanging chandelier while desperately clutching a violently rattling bucket.    when a familiar figure caught wednesday’s attention she signaled to the hand with one firm nod.    with the push of a finger the contents of the bucket spilled out the side like a cloud of black sludge.    the mass of writhing scorpions tumbled through the air and wednesday watched with beady eyes.    disappointment flashed across her expression when regulus faltered just seconds before the venomous insects came crashing down on where he should have been.    

she descended the stairs and watched the scorpions scuttle off behind frantic students.    ❝   despite their reputation,   less than one percent of scorpion stings are deadly.   others only result in seizures and arrhythmias which are disappointingly anticlimactic.   ❞   she doesn’t bother to explain what degree of danger she had just set free into the school. they would find out soon enough.    instead,   she looked up at the taller boy calmly,   as if she hadn’t just planned a deadly attack on him.   ❝   thornhill will notice that you skipped botany.   she’s more perceptive than she looks.   ❞ her words were equal part statement as they were a question.

[the-kipsabian]

aight i think i need to sleep now, but depending how tomorrow goes (aka how i feel with this cold and/or if i have to make anxiety inducing phone calls cause they informed me they might try to reach me concerning my unemployment status and to make plans with that tomorrow yay....)

i might finally be brave enough to try to make something out of the match from battle of the belts

[piinetrees]

        California was so lonely without the friends he made in Gravity Falls. Everything he witnessed made it all the harder to connect with his peers, but that’s alright. He knew he was going back for the summer to see the ones who really understand him, so it wasn’t that bad.

The comfortable Oregon heat felt like a hug from an old friend, the trees felt as though they were waving hello. He missed it — the falls, the weirdness, the mystery of it all. And he missed his friends. All of them. Things were a little different this year, though. Wendy was off with her family on a summer camping trip for a while, and Mabel was stolen away by Grenda to spend some time with Marius on his boat off the coast or something. The promise everyone would come together by the middle of the summer was enough to fight away the loneliness, but after a week or two…

Candy must feel the same way too. She was the only other one left behind, it seems. Dipper steered clear at first, still ashamed of his actions while on their road trip last year, but the longer they both spent summer without friends, the less that mattered to him. Heck, maybe he can make it up to her now.

So with his backpack packed, his own personal, handmade journal tucked under his arm, Dipper walks up the steps of @hifimuses​ house, his ( still little ) fist knocking on the solid wood.

         “ Hey Candy! I was wondering, did you want to go on a little mystery hunt with me? I think we might be the only ones in town right now. ”

[deadcralive]

Holly & Ryan

Loc: Tracks

Holly rarely allowed herself anything but the basics. Growing up on the commune, that was what was natural-- anything but what met the general needs of the individual was a shared commodity.

However, it meant that once she'd moved into town, into her own studio apartment, there wasn't a community to share those nicer things with. While she didn't mind most of the time (what more did she need?), there was one thing she missed: the record player. Especially in the dark of winter, when the sun started to disappear behind the mountains by 4 o'clock, she found herself longing for cozy nights by fires with her family and some records replaying the biggest hippie hits from the sixties and many members sharing memories from the summer of love. She'd been keeping an eye out since September, even going as far as leaving her number with the thrift store to call her if they got a record player in. A couple of times, she'd even driven to some of the neighboring towns to scope out their thrift stores, with no luck. Only last week, two days after Christmas, did she get the phone call: someone had donated a record player. The plinth was tarnished with age, and the arm looked like it had seen far better days, but with some cursory testing on a thrift store record it seemed to play just fine. She'd picked up a few vinyls from the thrift store with her purchase, and while the buyers guilt was eating her alive as her vet school piggy bank glared down from her at the shelf, she found herself at Tracks anyways, searching for a familiar album that might fill the loneliness. She missed home, but she'd never, ever confess to it. Someone was rifling through albums beside her, and she couldn't help but glance over in curiosity-- this girl seemed to know exactly what she was doing, at home among the boxes and boxes of vinyls. "Is that any good?" she asked when she pulled one up to examine it. Maybe she didn't need something old at all. Maybe she needed something new.

@panicxroom

[justsurv1vor]

@girlyraves liked for a starter!

the man hated weddings ( it was like a looming reminder of what future awaited him and always seemed to spur his mother into action ⸻ trying to hunt down a suitable bride for her son ). in the past, valerion had taken to hiding amongst his cousins before finding a way to slip from the affair whilst everyone's attention was on the bride and groom ⸻ but with one of his cousins at the center of the affair, his mother had made a point of keeping a closer eye on him. grimacing at one pointed glare sent his direction, valerion separated himself from his cousins to make toward a table laden with drink. plucking up a goblet of wine, the man nearly startled at the sight of another so close when he turned. flushing and clearing his throat awkwardly, his head gave a little dip in greeting. "the red is good," he murmurs.

[prideraiised]

@pompedia got a starter that they did not ask for!!

"She was right!? She totally was?" Says Coronamon in his Digivice.

"Mhm...she was totally singing..." Replies Lunamon from his Digivice.

Takumi stands in the empty, what he assumes to be quite literally hallowed halls of the...courthouse...? Is sure looked like a courthouse. Didn't need to be an ace detective to figure that one out...

When Alphamon had spoken to him, about the memory data collected by his Digimon being what would drag him back into reality he'd been excited. Valiant sacrifices were cool and everything, but he'd much prefer to survive his grand adventure.

That's what he'd thought was going to happen anyway. Instead he woke up somewhere totally unknown, and only thanks to a well choreographed musical number by a couple of strangers did he realise that this was, apparently, heaven.

'Well then' he had thought 'those guys seem to know whats happening, so I'll trail them until I get a moment!' , after all, he may have been at deaths door but he had been led to believe he wasn't actually dead. So he had planned to talk to the...angels? When their business concluded.

Their business did not end well.

But what was he supposed to do?! He was in heaven and he'd followed literal angels, important one's apparently, to a very important meeting! In a whole realm of existence he was not supposed to be in!!

Oh well...time to commit.

"Well...I guess even angels don't have it all figured out huh?" He asks, wandering into the now empty courtroom with all the confidence of somebody who absolutely was supposed to be here. He was not.

[oedipusrexs]

   for: @lvelydice

setting: event vibes ya know 

 A perfect crowd of fanatics was gathered around Professor Avila, from whose vicinage Samson had been banished --- he had been remanded for his pale and humourless countenance, and was told he was much too young a man, to be as despotic as a ghost. Fine features, precocious little minds such as his, were all around -- he ought to find his colour there. A more wonderfully tyrannical man than Avila had never filled the mantle of professor; he himself was the picture of ease, though he did not neglect to glance Samson's way. Ever the good little soldier, Samson did not require a second accosting; a composite feeling of trepidation and ennui wrapped round his heart, and sustained its thunderous throbbing. He entered the fray, unable to discern throw clouds of women and gentile men, whether his own features would ever find favour here. The rooftop bar felt ominous; Samson could never explain why.  Samson's eyes, pursuant of a friendly figure, found a face he considered singular in the crowd; Avila spoke so often of seraphs, Samson knew one in the flesh. He approached her, genial in his demonstrations -- he always liked dearly to hear what Mimi had to say about books or poets. Mimi spoke without designs of being a connoisseur; she spoke her thoughts, which were bound to be fresh -- she listened to him so kindly, gathering his obscure and rambling explanations. "I didn't hear you much at dinner, but I like to believe that you were whispering secrets to someone, rather than remaining reserved -- that's my job, you know." Samson sought to compliment her somehow; flattery was the purest byproduct of genuine feelings. "And you've lost your other half -- did Genie depart for the Professors circle, or are you standing alone for my benefit? Because I think I forgot to mention in our letters, I had three close calls with making friends over the summer." 

[ofgeneticperfection]

Lonliness. The deafening silence of the manor she ran off to hide in after the events of meteorfall and the fall of ShinRa. Her entire life had been turned upside down that night. She had lost the high technologies of the labs, the pristine building that she thrived in. She had lost her place on the chess board. She had been targeted at the same time to prevent her from being near Hojo and it had resulted in the death of the Black King she had spent her life protecting. Her greatest failure. To lose the man she could both hate and be comforted by at the same time. The only constant in her twisted life. To not hear the words of praise, that she was his perfection again.

For the past few years she drowned in that misery as she fought off the Geostigma that nearly destroyed her. Yet her cells had mutated to eradicate that as well. No matter how much she fell she always pulled through. For months she had been plagued by his spectre, was it real? Or guilt she had not yet managed to bring him back. She had stored his conciousness that night on a usb, the program she had worked on most of her time at ShinRa and he had enough faith in her to actually do it.

She had thought for moment perhaps she could finally be free, but she never could quite let go. There were many out there who wanted any ties to Hojo dead, especially her. All she had in the end was him. So she hid away, pretending to be dead as she continued to work on her Project. it took time but what she could salvage between equiptment in the manor and the help of her guards had reconstructed a younger body, a stronger one.

After those few years she had managed to pull herself back together. The Queen had risen once again. The only Project that had never ran. The only to remain loyal and now she needed him to help her conquer a new era. A technilogical one. To rise again in an even grander comapny. But it would all be one...step...at...a...time.

With the data she had adapted strange programs to acquire and the memory of him she held strong inside her she had finally downloaded into this new vessel that she had even dressed in his old likeness. But of course he wouldn't be caught dead without a lab coat.

"I was your greatest project....now...you will be mine." Her eyes glow in the vibrant digital blue lights of the surrounding monitors as the date completes. He had saved her life once, if not to use it. Now she his. A life for a life. It was always her puropse. She was painted with pure determination as she watches...and waits....and when he had not yet awkaken turned to leave the room in frustration.

Why didn't it work? It had to have. She went to fix herself some tea, not yet subbmitting to failure or defeat. She would figure this out. When she turns that tea she held shatters into pieces upon the floor as she seems him standing in the doorway and not just as a haunting spectre. She was captivated in disbelief, in awe, in a flood of all emotion good and bad. Everything all at once.

"..Professor?" She could hardly get the word to leave in a whisper from her lips. Did he retain memory? Was he finally here? Was she finally no longer, alone? Did she once again...succeed. She takes a step closer, a small knit in her brow. "Do you...remember me?" She tests while she tries to contain that welling elation within. Would she be perfect once again?

@pursuitofscience

[midwestprincesss]

never say sorry -sub!art donaldson x fem!reader smut

notes- this was literally supposed to be super short but i got carried away cause i am a whore (and proud of it)

cw- art is a little insecure:( , mentions of him having sex with tashi before (NO TASHI SLANDER I LOVE MY GIRL BUT IT'S FOR THE PLOT��) , he cums prematurely (like...really..) art's a whiny little slut, art keeps calling reader love ( i got a thing for that pet name sorry y'all) , reader calls art 'artie' once cus it's cute&idc.

thinking about art constantly apologizing while having sex :( like ur unzipping his pants and he's already bucking his hips up into your hand, and then immediately muttering "sorry":(( my babyyy

so at first you think that okay, whatever, it's just something that slips out

but then he does it SO many times that you're actually starting to be concerned

like, you're giving him head and he moans a little too loudly- he's apologizing again. while kissing, you pull back for air and he still follows you, mouth half-open, wanting more - but then he realizes and he apologizes again.

but one time he really caught you off guard-

it had been a long day for him, spending almost all day training for his upcoming match. he barely had any time to rest, so he comes back to his dorm, taking off his shirt and pants, getting into bed with you only with his baby-blue boxer briefs on.

he kisses you. he's so fucking tired, but he still kisses you. 'cause he needs you, especially after the day he just had. you could feel his hard cock, practically begging you to take his boxers off.

"please love, wanna see you" he says while tugging at your top, watery eyes glistening with tears waiting to be spilled.

you take it off and unclasp your bra, little whimpers leaving his lips at the sight of you over him, with your tits out. you would love to take your time with him, really. to hear him beg and plead for you. but he's so eager, and so polite about it too- you just can't do that to him right now. so when you take off his boxers, his cock immediately jumps up, slapping his lower abdomen, right over his strawberry-blond happy trail.

"aww baby, look at you. you're so pretty aren't you?" you smile down at him, admiring how his legs shake slightly at every word you say. "hmm? aren't you?" you repeat. "mmghn- yeah, i- uhh i am" he says, eyes almost rolling back from the lack of touch. "you're what? say it." he sighs. you do this a lot. 'self love is important' you usually tell him- but not now. not when his dick is out, aching and leaking and begging to be touched. but just for the sake of it- just because he wants to please you, he says it. "i'm pretty"

"good boy," you coo, finally bringing a finger down to his cock, only to circle his pink, wet tip. and with that, he loses it. his mind goes blank, and he can't help it- all the waiting, the anticipating made him lose control of his body. he really didn't want to cum, he wanted to be good for you, but you were just so hot, he couldn't hold back. so immediately after his white, thick and warm liquid lands partially on his stomach and a bit on your hand, he starts babbling out apologies.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry love, please don't be mad, please- i'll clean up after myself- oh my god i'm so sorry-" he was so obviously tired, he could barely make up the words, yet he still continued apologizing. until you cut him off.

"art, baby- you dont need to apologize to me! what's up with this" you ask, softly. "you know i love making you feel good. and it's even better when i get feedback like this" you giggle. his cheeks turn bright pink as he covers his face.

"but i literally came the second you touched me" he mumbles, shyly.

you kiss his shoulder, smiling. "and it was hot."

"i- I don't know how to explain it to you, love- i just don't want to disappoint you. tashi used to hate it when i did any of this, she hated hearing me, and stuff like that- sometimes it made me feel like i was an object to her or something, y-you know? she'd get mad at me, and uh- it wasn't great."

"oh." you could actually feel your heart breaking for the boy. he was so sweet, he never deserved any of that. "well i'm not tashi, and i definitely won't get mad at you for anything like that. i like hearing you, and believe it or not, this was really fucking hot. you're letting me know i'm making you feel good. what's wrong with that?"

"just don't wanna upset you." art shrugs.

"i promise you artie, you could never upset me." you peck his lips and he smiles. "now let's clean you up"