#nbstarter

[reagan-montgomery]

Reagan loved being a lawyer, she really did. Every day was different and she was making a very real difference in people’s lives. What she did not love, was the paper work. So much paperwork. For every hour of meeting with clients or in the court room, there were two hours of her hunched over her laptop filling out form after form or writing up another report. She was in the middle of one such report when she reached out to grab her coffee upon taking a sip did not taste her usual caramel macchiato. “Oh shit, I think I took your coffee instead. Sorry about that,” she apologized to the person in front of her.

[dr-brennon-moore]

“What the fuck?” Brennon muttered to himself as he looked at a patient’s chart, before realizing that there was another person there and that he probably shouldn’t be swearing, “Hell...,” he said attempting to correct himself, despite the fact that it seemed the only words that he could think of were explectives.  “You know,” he finally said, turning to the person beside him - not really caring if they were patients or not (after all his patients had pretty much grown to expect this of him), “The fact that swearing isn’t considered professional is fucking bullshit.”

[surge--rodriguez]

Surge thought the underwear run was stupid. While the raising money part was cool, he didn’t see the point of running around in your underwear. Or how seriously everyone seemed to be taking it. But with everything going on with his hand recovery, having an excuse to actually run and get some of his pent up anger (at himself...at his father...at the world) out without actually harming himself more. Sitting on a bench eating the burrito that had been shoved at him by his sister when he dropped of Pilar to babysit, he watched everyone getting ready.  “They know this isn’t like...serious, right?” he asked, judging the amount of people who seemed to think of this as something anywhere near a marathon, “Like a 5k is nothing special.”

[doowdles-blog]

‘ oh no, no lo sé, podría acompañarte en la fila pero no me subiré al juego... no soy mucho de ferias realmente y me duele un poco el estómago, mala combinación. ’ frunció efimeramente su nariz, acción que acompañaba sus mentirillas piadosas en ciertas ocasiones. añoraba subir a los juegos con la emoción de que sólo su ente pueril podría conferir pero, no obstante, el ambiente cargado de la sombría morbosidad dada la ocasión le impedía divertirse. no podía evitar sentirse desdichada ante la grisácea realidad detrás del evento.

[dxrota-blog]

La joven se encontraba en el aseo del pub frente a su casa. No le importaba si se había metido en el de hombres o de mujeres: ni siquiera lo había mirado. Lo único que sabía es que tras una birra necesitaba repintar su maquillaje, y se encontraba pintando sus labios del rojo de siempre. En aquel momento, salió alguien del baño de detrás. La joven sonrió — ¿Quieres que te los pinte a ti también? —.

[olympiasheppard-blog]

‘Menuda mierda esto de estropear las fiestas con el recordatorio de dos muertes’, pensó. Olympia estaba agobiada, triste, y el nudo en la garganta no la abandonaba sin importar el número de cervezas consumidas. La fiesta había comenzado bien, la adrenalina de las atracciones y los pubs con música a todo volumen eran, como siempre, increíbles. Más un hecho no dejaba de rondar su mente a pesar de intentar y aparentar estar bien: la muerte de Bentley, su compañero de piso. La muchedumbre comenzaba a estresarla, así que se fue alejando hasta acabar sentada en el bordillo de una acera, jugueteando con un cigarrillo en la mano derecha. Había dejado de fumar a los 19 años, más los hechos recientes la habían obligado retomar aquel vicio horrible. -Perdona, ¿tienes fuego?- preguntó a cierta figura que tenía cerca. No se había dado cuenta antes de su presencia, ni de cómo ésta había llegado allí, pero deseaba que ést@ tuviese un mechero.

[oddityvs-blog]

❛ ¿alguna vez sentiste que estás en un sueño del que no puedes despertar? ❜ vocales escapando de labios fruncidos con sosiego, nostalgia presentándose en fanales vidriosos, líneas intrincadas marcando registro de lágrimas previas ❛ eso es lo que siento, quiero detener absolutamente todo ❜

[dr-brennon-moore]

Any time there was a group of runners all going on the same predetermined route with a finish line, he knew that it was a race - even if the organizers wouldn’t officially call it that. Brennon wasn’t stupid, that was just how it worked. Which was the whole reason he was being serious about stretching beforehand - he was intending to crush all the other doctors (and more importantly beat his wife). “So, I’m thinking last one to finish has to buy us all beer?” Brennon asked, as he stretched out his quads, “Seems fair, right?”