#((you don't have to match it's length

[the-haunted-office]

(A starter for @alabonshay!)

"As Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."

Stanley has forgotten how many times he's heard those words spoken in that order by that voice. Enough times that he doesn't need to be told to take the door on the left anymore, but the voice still feels the need to tell him. That's just how the Narrator is, though. Omnipresent, though perhaps not omniscient. Controlling, but not in control.

Stanley goes ahead and enters the door on the left, though. He has no reason to deviate this time around. Nothing in his gut telling him to go right instead, or to jump off any platforms, or to head down any dark and ominous corridors. Besides, it's not that he wants to listen to the Narrator this time around or that he has any particular gut feelings. He simply wants to see outside, even knowing it isn't real.

It may be the last time he sees the outside ever again, and in his yearning for freedom, he can't help but take whatever he can get.

"-2845- Stanley, have you even been listening to me? I swear, it's like talking to a wall with you sometimes. I don't know why I even bother."

Stanley presses his lips together and enters in the code behind the boss' desk, although he manages to resist rolling his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd been tuning out the Narrator. Everything is on autopilot this time around, it seems, and most of the time through the Story he doesn't even need to listen to the Narrator to know where he needs to go. It's the same thing every time, so what's the point?

The fireplace swings open, the Narrator drones on, and Stanley continues his march, onward toward the Ending he's reached dozens if not hundreds of times before.

Getting there is the boring part, and as the clank and clang of his shoes echo on the concrete floors and metal catwalks, Stanley begins to tune out the voice in the ceiling again.

The voice in the ceiling notices.

Meanwhile neither of them notices when something goes fantastically... different.

"-Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert its- Stanley, you're just not listening to me, are you? Here you are, seconds away from your freedom, and you're acting like you're a walking corpse. I might as well be talking to one. I don't know why I bother with you sometimes, if I'm honest."

Stanley gives a small shrug in acknowledgment as he enters the door into the room with the Mind Control machine. He can see the blue glow from the enormous monitor just beyond the door. Here, he'll have to make his choice whether to turn the machine On or Off.

"Well, if you're so content with being dead already why don't you- .....What the HELL is THAT?"

Stanley comes to an abrupt halt, because he sees it too. Something is standing there in front of the controls. Something a lot bigger and bulkier than he is, and better dressed to boot.

Lacking any other reasonable way to respond to this situation, the office worker just stands there. And waves a hello.

[a-hell-of-a-time]

@copaceticjillybean

There were reasons why the marquis rarely went out alone. He knew that there were some among the lower houses who had it out for him, waiting in the shadows for their moment to strike. While Andrealphus was nowhere near the same status as a prince such as Stolas, he was still high enough in the hierarchy to have a target placed on his back.

This fact was made known to him as he slowly dragged himself down a nearby alley, a bloodied hand clutching his injured arm which was, arguably, the worst of his injuries. If anyone were to even look at his now bruised and battered self, most would not know who he was.

Of course, the fools who tried to jump him ended up worse off. Various headless corpses littered the alley floor behind him, and those who managed to keep their heads were lacking various other parts. Others still were left covered in ice except for the gaping holes where their hearts were supposed to be. It was all quite messy, he thought as shards of ice fell from his hands, the remains of his sword scattering below. Had it been Caim, the cuts would have been far more clean, and the fight finished in an instant. She had always been better than him at this.

A hiss escaped his throat as he leaned against a nearby wall, his vision blurring as pain wracked his body. He had used the majority of his magic in the fight, and it took all of what he had left to remain conscious. He knew he should call for assistance, but his pride and unwillingness to admit that he fucked up big time pushed him forward. If either his sister or Caim were to catch wind of this, he would never live it down. Not to mention that the media would find out and descend upon him like they did when his former brother in law ended up in the hospital.

He had to do this alone.

He would get himself out of this.

He ended up collapsing in the middle of the alley, his vision fading to black before hitting the ground.

[lostxtosunlight]

@painofhumanity

It hadn't been hard for Morgan to convince Yuki to go to a bar. What had been an unfriendly reminder was the amount of people in one room who wanted to fuck his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word left a strange flavor in his mouth, even though it was accurate. Just...not the word Yuki would've otherwise used.

Though Morgan was attracting a lot of attention, he didn't seem to notice (or he didn't care). Morgan's focus was still on Yuki, which filled him with a sense of smug pride, despite the way his body was coiled to snap.

And then the man whose desire had overpowered the others decided to try his luck.

He'd come up to them -- specifically Morgan -- and drawn his attention away from Yuki. A large guy, tall and muscular. And apparently full of arrogance and cockiness, for him to come up to someone else's boyfriend and blatantly flirt.

Of course...Yuki hadn't exactly shown the other patrons that Morgan was his.

When the stranger touched Morgan's arm, invited him back to his place, Yuki couldn't take it anymore.

He stood abruptly and got between them, shoving the man back by his excessively broad chest. He towered over Yuki, probably a foot taller than him, but Yuki wasn't intimidated. All those muscles wouldn't save him from eating the floor, if need be.

"Back off my boyfriend," Yuki snarled, staring up at the other man like there was no height difference. That taste became stronger, but the word was out, and he wasn't going to take it back.

The man had the audacity to laugh, and Yuki became keenly aware of the knives hidden throughout his person.

"Do you have a death wish, kid?"

Yuki's expression turned to stone, a scowl taking over his face that he could never quite achieve before. His eyes went cold, and Yuki shoved a tendril of his power down the man's throat, coated in an acute panic that would no doubt take days to shake off. The man drew in a harsh breath and his eyes widened as he clutched his chest, where his heart was no doubt hammering against his ribs. Yuki pushed harder, even though it drained him quickly. He refused to show it. He was more interested in how far he could push the man, and a smirk curved his lips as he watched him drop to his knees.

Soon even Morgan faded into the background, as did the yells to call an ambulance, while Yuki lapped up every second of blind panic he was causing.

[worthyheir]

@hcncrablesacrifice / vaguely plotted starter

He had made it to the Dragonmont just in time to see his mother fly away on Syrax, and that had been several hours ago. Since then, he was stuck on Dragonstone - he could not leave their home defenseless, particularly with their monarch having left. He had been told the reason, that Seasmoke had gained a new rider and she went to discover who it might be. His eyes have been searching the skies since she left, awaiting her return, when a member of the Queensguard finds him. A boat was spotted nearby, three travelers aboard when it was picked up: the Queen Dowager, the usurper Queen, and her young Princess daughter.

Without Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, and her Hand back to Driftmark, it was to Prince Jacaerys that they sought what they should do with these enemies on their shores. It could be a trap, but if the Guard had already rounded them up, saying that the Queen Dowager was demanding an audience with Rhaenyra (what rights did she had to demand anything of any of them anymore?), he did not think so. It was not as though any of the guard or council would leave their Queen alone with this woman, not after what had happened the last time someone from King's Landing had infiltrated their walls.

If Alicent wanted an audience with someone at Dragonstone this day, it would have to be him. As much as he would have preferred to have her thrown into a cell, he knew his mother would not have done so. However, separating Helaena and Jaehaera from her seemed the best move - placing them in a room under guard, while having the Queen Dowager wait for him in another. He would see her first, discover why they would risk coming to Dragonstone, even cloaked and by ship.

Prince Jacaerys entered the room armed - he does not go near anywhere now without a sword sheathed at his side, truly, but she would not need to be aware of that - head held high, and despite the attempt to appear diplomatic, it is difficult to keep the disdain from his voice when he does speak. The guards remain outside the door by his order, though he does not fear this former Queen who has come to his home for a purpose. They are present in case she attempted to leave, after he discovered her purpose here. "I was told you were demanding an audience. The Queen is otherwise occupied, and will be for several hours. If you wish to see her, you'll have to speak with me first."

[freewillacquired]

In a world ravaged by a virus that primarily creates monsters, nasty encounters are in no short supply. When Rain begins to hear heavy footfalls—when she feels them practically shaking the ground beneath her, she figures she's about to have another.

Cursing under her breath, she unholsters her gun.

The days were blending together in depressing ways now. Nemesis was shocked at how quickly things had gone to hell after the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents. It had taken him quite a while to regenerate after the city's "sanitation," but once he was on his feet again, he realized the gravity of what was happening to the world.

Alone and with nothing left to do in his current mutated state, Nemesis had taken to showing up at Umbrella facilities unannounced, and destroying as much of them as he could. The digital feed supplied by the retinal implant attached to his right eye and sewn up into his head gave him a lot of useful information, especially after his mind was liberated from Umbrella's control. May as well put it to good use, right?

He'd acquired more clothes and equipment this way, with the boots and leather trenchcoat-style getup being standard issues for a creature called a Tyrant, which he apparently now was. They seemed just about the only things that were going to fit his... unique body shape nowadays.

Learning about himself and destroying Umbrella assets were good pastimes, but Nemesis was extremely lonely. The few survivors he came across now and then either screamed and ran from him or shot at him. Bullet wounds were nothing more than annoying mosquito bites to him now, thanks to his thick hide, but even so... it was demoralizing. All he wanted to do was help. He was almost getting used to being alone all the time, by necessity rather than desire, until that unexpectedly changed. While exploring a city one day, he rounded a corner and-

"Raaaain!" Nemesis bellowed the moment he saw her, unable to contain his excitement upon seeing her. "Oh... ny god!" He couldn't believe his eyes. Well, eye. He still had two, but one was... indisposed. In a move that probably looked damn near ridiculous to the other, he lifted his hand... and waved to her. "I'n so glad... to see you! How... are you... alithe... right now?" he tried to ask, his massive chompers getting in the way, as usual.

Nemesis couldn't get his voice to be anything other than a monotone growl, and with monstrous teeth and a noticeable lack of lips, his speech was something of a garbled mess. It took him a while, but he'd learned to make certain sounds in other ways, using his throat and tongue. Essentially, he'd had to relearn how to speak. Some sounds and words, though, were lost forever. None of that did anything to curb his enthusiasm at seeing Rain alive, however. Was he finally losing his mind? Hallucinating, maybe? No, the target identification system is identifying her as Rain... Right now, Nemesis didn't care either way. Just the sight of her was one for sore eyes, since his last clear memory of her was being at death's door.

"I thought... the anti-thirus... didn't work...?" he said, his elation at seeing her alive completely overriding his common sense. Nemesis wasn't thinking about the fact that Rain wouldn't recognize him anymore, or about how negatively she would likely react to seeing the hulking beast before her. Not to mention his tentacles, rooted at the backs of his shoulders, which were excitedly coiling and undulating in their own right, reacting to his surprise and happiness. He batted one of them with his hand. "Cut it out...!" he admonished the obnoxious appendage. It recoiled temporarily before returning to its idle activities.

Then it dawned on him, especially with how she had her gun at the ready. Oh no... she has no idea who I am. "It's Natt," he said, laying his hand on his chest. "Natt... Ad-di-son." How pathetic is it that I can't even say my own name correctly anymore? he thought grimly.

[mad-hunts]

jokethur asked: ❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

one might argue that the way barton huffed through his nostrils in a wry sense of disbelief at what he heard come out of the other's mouth, rather than at the terrible thing that was just said through his own lips without an ounce of shame, told you everything you needed to know about him; that he was a brutal and very unfeeling person. but honestly, even if those things were the least bit true, barton thought... he was only saying what everyone would be thinking in their heads if they knew what was really going on behind the scenes. they just wouldn't want to say it aloud for one reason or another, whether that was due to the fear of being ostracized by their peers, or frowned down upon by society as a whole. kind of like how he was currently by the man standing beside him.

barton took a long drag out of his cigarette and averted his gaze from one of the big, bright displays that decorated the skyline to meet the others eyes. the displays were showcasing what looked like the latest news: and that was what barton seemingly was making a comment on, as the death of a cop that was rather infamous for being a ' pinnacle of kindness and care to their community ' was the main headline for that day. except that man was everything but in reality. it was just so rich to be seeing him regarded as some fantastic guy, when barton knew for a fact that he was a sleazeball who he had seen hanging around his old boss, as he was secretly in their pocket and doing their dirty work. and if there was one person that barton held contempt for more than anything... it was the man who used to treat him like he was something less than human. or, less than dirt, actually.

but of course, barton would never tell the gcpd of his corruption because he knew that rainer (you have to put a face to the name for these people) would realize that it was him who'd sold him out. and besides... since when did he have faith in the gcpd, or even like the police? they were all a bunch of pigs to him. so, barton let him continue on with his little game of playing the role of the well-beloved police officer while he was helping people get killed on the side. he rolled his eyes then, ❝ well, if i had known that you were such a big fan of the police, then i likely wouldn't have said anything. but i rest my case: a lot of people do deserve to die, stranger, and he was one of them. so i don't feel sorry for him or his family at all. ❞

barton stated this all in a very matter-of-fact manner, blowing smoke out through his nose from his cigarette before he continued, ❝ i mean, where was this guy if he was so good whenever the city got flooded? i didn't see him among the people who were helping other's whenever everything went to shit. in fact, i bet he was probably sitting in some place really safe and warm whenever it happened, because i knew the real kind of person that he was. a total prick who certainly wasn't the golden boy that the news is trying to make him out to be, ❞ he flicked his cigarette down on the ground and smushed it underneath his boot, successfully putting out the fire on its other end. barton turned to face arthur completely with an unamused look in his eyes.

❝ now, are you done preaching to me about how wrong it is that i said that? you don't really know the first thing about the pig after all. but i do. though you didn't hear that from me, alright? ❞

[fiorserpen]

@designedparadigm

agatha doesn't have much faith in dating apps when it seems most are in it for hookups and not real relationships. still, her friends insisted she put herself back out there if she actually wanted to find someone to be with. they argued it was better and easier than being a hopeless romantic and waiting for the right person to simply come into her life one day. she is a hopeless romantic, though, but she wants to be little more hopeful about it instead. agatha has had a few successful and a handful of unsuccessful first dates, none of which went anywhere. it tempts her to delete the app from her phone, but... oh, just one more chance can't hurt, right?

with the shop empty at this current moment, agatha leans against the counter, looking through tinder while she has this little bit of free time. there were a lot of handsome guys and pretty women, of course, but none that strike her fancy until she comes upon one profile that stops her swiping all at once. cash forscythe, hm? she looks over his profile, scrolling through the little obligatory biography and his likes and interests and what he hopes for from someone. agatha scrolls back up to look through his pictures. he's really cute, isn't he? tall, handsome, and quite the dazzling grin. she takes the chance and swipes right on cash's profile before setting her phone aside to help a customer that came into the shop.

once that was all over, she checked her phone to see cash had swiped right on her profile as well, blinking in surprise at the message he sent her. her features soon relax and a smile forms on her lips.

> well, hi to you, too! 😊 and i'm rarely deterred by appearances, especially when you're very handsome! > i suppose i might also be a bit surprised you swiped right on me, i wasn't sure i'd be your type

[inmensapotentia]

Kisuke had asked Juushiro to come to the living world so they could do some tests on his new Hollow capabilities, hoping to test them to see if he could hold a mask for longer than a few seconds. Though the handful of seconds he could summon his mask was plenty for him to become a threat, not totally able to tell friend and foe apart. Which was why Shunsui had decided to accompany him to the World of the Living; he was the only one that Juushiro had so far proven able to identify with his mask in place. Shunsui's lieutenants could manage things for a day or two. Honestly Nanao could probably do a better job than just about anyone after the years she'd spent dealing with Shunsui.

Everything had seemed to be going well.

Up until the cleaner suddenly appeared while they were in the senkaimon. That was most definitely not supposed to be happening.

Hands automatically clasping, the two ran towards the light at the end of the tunnel. Leaping from the portal, they both caught themselves in the air, reiatsu gathering under their feet without any real effort. Panting from the unexpected run, the two of them looked at each other seriously. Though it soon devolved into soft laughing from both of them as they calmed their racing hearts.

Looking down at the city below them, Juushiro frowned slightly as he took in the view. Something didn't seem right about the concrete jungle below them. "Does...something look...strange to you?"

Shunsui looked down as well and Juushiro's frowning proved contagious. "I don't think we made it to Karakura Town."

"Perhaps we should verify?" It made more sense than wasting time going back to the Seireitei to come back to the Land of the Living; if they were lucky they'd just missed by a town or two and could get there quickly enough.

Nodding his agreement, the brunet began walking down through the air to the ground. While they likely couldn't be seen by anyone, those who could tended to be uncommon, they still made sure to come down to the ground in an empty alleyway. As they did, Juushiro dug out a small silver tin from his pocket. Inside were a couple of portable gigai; one for each of them.

Quickly slipping into their gigai's, the two Captain's stepped out of the alleyway, practically running over a petite woman. Shunsui was quick to steady her, one large hand gripping her upper arm firmly. "Sorry, are you okay?"

[thefvrious]

@ruinedsoulsrp loosely based on x

Dale Vranas has spent her whole life trying to outrun her own shadow. She worked hard to get out of the trailer park and even harder to graduate at the top of her class not once, not twice, but three times. The hardest work she's ever put in, though, is being seen as capable in her current position.

She's young for a state representative, but she means business, never backs down, and goes toe-to-toe with even the strongest personalities, the toughest men. The biggest issue lately has been balancing her work and personal life. And, to be honest, she didn't much care for the latter, though that charming stockbroker she'd met at one of the parties where the rich rub elbows had been heavy on her mind. They'd exchanged numbers after playful banter — was it flirtation? — and now, at the bar after a long day, she sat staring at her phone in her hand, the message she'd already sent glaring back at her.

"Dumbass." She said to herself as she looked at the desperation in a little blue bubble.

Full disclosure: I'm drunk and I'll probably regret this in the morning... I think about kissing you all the time.

After re-reading it for the nth time, she swallowed down the rest of the whiskey in her glass and put pressed the button on the side of her phone to put the device to sleep, gesturing for the bartender to bring her another one. Dale could only hope that his message in response didn't shatter her ego.

[preciiousmetals]

closed starter for @elysianbeloved // lucien & victor

it was a somewhat jarring sensation when lucien felt himself power on again, something he hadn't expected to happen. the last thing he remember was panic, anger and fear. there was yelling, something about a malfunction or a mistake? an accident? his leg...hurt. not that androids felt pain in the traditional sense, but his circuits and wires did a decent job of playing the part. he gave a few small blinks before glancing down towards the source of the feeling. his leg was twisted and damaged, false skin peeled back to reveal the mechanics inside. he reached out to touch it and further assess the damage, only to find two the last two digits on his right hand missing.

the shock pulls him further from the fog of reactivation, gaze finally moving up to take in his surroundings. he recognized nothing - this wasn't the club, wasn't what he was used to. should be louder, brighter, pounding music and the scent of sex. this was different.

that was when he realized he wasn't alone, eyes widening slightly at the sight of a stranger. he wondered perhaps the man wanted him at home, not the club. not an impossibility, of course, but that didn't explain the injuries. confusion was written all over his features as he searched the man's face for an answer and finally he opened his mouth to speak...but nothing came out.

confusion fell further into panic at the realization, damaged hand smearing blue 'blood' across his throat as he reached to feel for more damage. nothing that he could feel, no split skin or sparking wires. internal? his focus snapped back to the stranger, expression begging for something. any kind of answer for any of it.

[lcngdays]

@bloodbared // plotted

Temperance wasn't sure what it was about him.

Richter had never made much of an impression on them before. But they'd sailed through high school without a care in the world. They hardly noticed anything or anyone. He'd probably been there, and they just hadn't been paying attention, and then they'd left town.

Unfortunate circumstances led them back home, but that didn't mean they were going to give up on the Youtube grind. It was what was paying off their student loans, of course, so there wasn't much choice either way. They were back and looking for new leads on anything paranormal and they found him.

Temp had sat through the interview easily. Asked all the right questions at all the right times. Responded appropriately. Laughed when they were meant to, all the great things an interviewer did, they did. Things had a tendency to come easy to them, after all. But they were more than just enjoying the interview, they were enraptured by it. By him.

Maybe it was wrong, or weird to be so attracted to a man telling them about all the spilled guts he'd seen but they couldn't help themself. There was just something about him. Maybe it was their similar interests? Maybe it was having someone so engaged in what they were doing and saying? They didn't know. By the time the interview was over, Temperance was practically squirming in their seat.

They smile at Richter, glancing back at their camera set up. They stand and move to turn it off. Normally they'd leave it on to catch some post production, maybe some b-roll, anything like that. But not tonight. Tonight, they were going to shoot their shot. And who knew? Maybe luck would be on their side.

"listen." Their voice is casual. "i'm not normally so bold..."

Not on things like this, anyway. They'd only ever had one partner sexually and that had been one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences of their life.

"but like... i think you're really hot. and that was an amazing interview. and as much as i'd love to get to work on post-production... maybe." They stroll over to him, lightly lay a hand on his shoulder. "maybe we could spend a little more time together tonight?"

[imsammyclaflin]

Celebrating with Style || Stoneflin

Sam was excited to be hanging out with Emma again. They hadn't seen one another in a long time and he missed her. Well, as much as you can miss someone you had a sexual relationship with. She was smart, beautiful, and sexy and he loved spending time with her but they both knew what this was. There were no expectations, no committments, and they had of course agreed to stop their current relationship should one or both of them find someone. It had been working out well for them so far. He had a lot of respect for Emma, she was an amazing woman and he couldn't fathom why she still hadn't found anyone. He knew why he was single but she deserved happiness and while he couldn't give her what she needed, they could give each other something they both wanted.

He went outside where the hot tub was located and turned it on, watching the jets spit out hot water. He wondered if he should add the bubbles this time around, flipping the switch anyway. "I don't think we'll be in it much anyway." He smirked, shaking his head. He couldn't recall how their fwbs relationship started but it was almost comical. Every time Emma won an award, they would celebrate together. It was beneficial to them both and they weren't hurting anyone. Still, as he called the number for the restaurant to order them a pizza, a small part of his mind felt guilty, a nagging feeling that someone would end up hurt if this got out. He shoved that down, reminding himself that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He had needs, she had needs, they were helping each other. That was it. There were no feelings involved. He let out a sigh, setting the phone down as he busied himself, tidying up his already tidy house while he waited for the redhead to arrive.

@emxastone

[hazbinned]

@angie-long-legs @cannibalxroses Connected to x. 🌹

{ If we remember to tag each other, the post order can go Angel Dust, Rosie, then me again? }

"Remember, Angie: nosotros podemos hacer esto. We're better than everyone here."

Valentino's limo was parked outside the venue, and within it sat Angel Dust and Valentino himself, side-by-side and looking quite smushed because of the utter size of Angel's flowery dress. Valentino's outfit complimented it, though... at least somewhat. His blazer was also light pink, and rose-themed, for what it was worth. It was where the harsher black and gold aspects of the getup came into play that the moth branched off into his own realm.

Anyway, whatever had possessed him to give the porn star this little Cannibal Town pep-talk was unknown even to him.

"Nobody's going to eat us. We don't have to eat any gross food unless we want to. Just keep repeating that."

Speaking of food, he reached for the drive-thru burgers they had acquired on the trip over, still fresh in their wrappers, and urgently passed them off to Angel.

"Hide them in your dress!"

Smuggling food in may have been sketchy... but could he be blamed? He didn't know if they would be serving anything normal here! He hadn't even read the invite-- Vox had! All he knew was what the dress code was, and that the Cannibal Overlord was hosting it!

He waited for Angel to comply, and then pushed the car door open and stepped out, scanning their surroundings through black-tinted heart glasses. The mask could wait until they actually got closer to everybody-- he didn't need to obscure his vision even more.

"Do you have everything?" he asked, and cast a glance down at Angel Dust.

When the spider was ready, Val wrapped an arm across the other's shoulders and together they entered the venue.

The party was bustling. There was an odd smell in the air. Everyone was dressed to the nines, but in a weird way, like they were in a fantasy flick or some shit.

Valentino put his gold-feathered mask on, and squinted, hard... trying to seek out the masquerade's gracious host.

"I think I see her," he hissed to Angel, and cupped his fingers around his eyes. "Yeaah, that's definitely her. Come on, we gotta go say hi before we get settled in."

The moth stalked through the ballroom toward the woman clad in red, intent on greeting the older Overlord. Didn't want to make enemies, now, did he?

When he reached her, he mustered up a huge, feigned, pink-toothed grin.

"ROSIE! Mamacita! Long time, no see! How have you been, girl?"

Hopefully the mask would obscure the fact that his eye was twitching. Valentino continued his praise.

"Great thing you've got goin' here! You're looking fabulous!" he said, and then waved at his plus one. "This here is Angel Dust. You know, like from TV?"

Did she even watch TV?

[sookiestackhcuse]

Sookie used to beg Gran to take her out of public school and homeschool her, but they just didn't have the means to do that. Besides, Jason always stuck his nose where it didn't belong and told her that she just had to get through the last few years of high school and then she'd be free to do whatever she wanted to, even if that meant becoming a hermit living in isolation away from people and their endless thoughts. He was joking of course, like any older brother would do, except he was doing it with a telepath, an ability he didn't fully understand. Nobody did and that was the problem. Sookie was alone.

She tried not to call attention to herself in school but it was hard for her. They'd already tried diagnosing her with ADHD a few times and she didn't really blame them. It wasn't like she could tell them the reason she couldn't focus during school wasn't because she had a small attention span but it was because she couldn't stop hearing everyone's thoughts all day long. Every little bit of concentration she used to block them out meant not being able to concentrate on anything else, like schoolwork, but the teachers were always impressed that she aced her homework. Strange.

Shuffling hurriedly from the busy hallways of the high school, she was just trying to get away from the thoughts that felt particularly loud today. An exit door was in her line of sight, just needing some fresh air, and if she decided to skip her last class, would anyone really blame her? Would they even miss her? Right as she was about to reach out for the door herself, someone else was about to push it open, too.

Scott McCall, a familiar face. Well — of course she knew who he was considering they went to the same school together, but they'd briefly talked here and there. Nothing extensively. She doubted he'd even call her a friend, just some weird girl he knew from school if anything. Before they could run into each other trying to get the door, she laughed it off and said, ❝ Go ahead, you first. Heading to practice? ❞

✞ ───── @kindofuneven gets a starter !

[harrisonhayes]

"Listen. If you're here for Maddox, I can't help you. But if you see the ass, tell him— ..." The voice reached the front desk long before the figure, door to the backroom swinging open in its wake as Harrison stepped through, message dismissed, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, and arms laden with an over-filled cardboard box. He muttered to himself as he crossed the space – something that may or may not have rhymed with "duck him" – and brought his trek to an end heaving the box onto the counter, before levelling his gaze on the one other occupant of the store – who, he had noted too late, was not in fact worthy of his present exasperation. And who could not, probably, pass along that heartwarming note to this Maddox, his wayward co-worker.

So, with the wry grin of a Harrison forced to backtrack, he started again, "sorry, uh, how can I help? You have an order?"

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | in which chiyo doesn't want them to leave <3

" thank you, " softly chiyo mutters as laces are untied and shoes discarded, careful hands helping her beneath a comforter that feels heavenly against her skin. typically she'd never go to bed in street clothes, but the night calls for an exception; she's had just a tad too much to drink, feels much too tired to worry about dirty clothes. no, chiyo's more concerned with squeezing her pillow as tightly as she can ( the pressure against her chest soothes something that she can't name, doesn't want to name ).

she feels the bed shift as her companion stands, and eyes like melted chocolate stare up at them. belatedly chiyo realizes she's grabbed hold of their wrist but doesn't let go. belatedly she realizes she's allowed her pillow to fall to the ground, half-risen upon an elbow, though she doesn't care. she just doesn't want them to leave.

" could you stay a while longer? " her voice sounds so small, fragile. " please? "