#starbrcken

[classifiedborn]

    ❝ unfortunately it seems i’m busy for the next two weeks. ❞ a slight grin pulled at his lips for a few moments.  ❝ unless you manage to change my mind. ❞ 

// @starbrcken

[empathicstars]

@starbrcken replied to your post “We should just act like we’re in 2012 again.”

anna vc: i bet times were just way simpler then *siiiiighs*

    “... No?” 

[mcrtyrdom]

                    ‘ anna, hey. ’                      he feels like a prick the moment he walks through the diner’s door, a case file in his letter bag, badge on his waist, concealed by his jacket. this is the last place he wants to be on business, but it’s only been a few months, and half the precinct still knows him as new guy. new guys don’t get the jobs that make heroes. new guys get the jobs where the suspect has a sixty percent chance of pulling a knife, or where they have to drag a father out of his own apartment in front of all his kids——-  or where they have to ask detective hart’s grieving sister to give a statement despite everything she’s already got on her plate.                      ‘ got a few questions about, uh, something that happened in the neighbourhood last night. i can come back later, if you’re busy. ’

@starbrcken. 

[dropmyneedlejarvis-blog]

📱 ⏩ @starbrcken II Continued. II Verse: TBA

Tony waited patiently with his pinky out having every intention of waiting as long as it took to get what he wanted. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait all that long before she was wrapping her pinky around his own in the sacred binding promise. Though at her teasing he huffed a bit, mocking offense for even suggesting that what they had just done was weird in any capacity. 

“Only the important promises that need the extra binding.” he said with every ounce of seriousness in his voice. “Of course not, most of those businessmen can’t be trusted with such an honor.” 

[perfecthaired]

   KNOCK, KNOCK.      Days passed, turned into weeks. Weeks into a month. A simple      diplomatic mission, easy-peasy as he did say so many days ago.      But all it needed to take was one wrong turn. One false translated      word. All of the away team (including himself - not that this was the      thing that mattered to him the MOST) locked away. Locked away until      a stupid mistake was cleared. Ruled out. WORDS OF ANGER - Bones      of course - lingered in the back of mind, long after being declared fit      for duty. Full of uncertainity, he had been gone so long, he stood      there. Lips curled upwards weakly as the door been opened.      “Remember me?”      ( @starbrcken )

[reidredacted-blog]

❝ keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart. ❞

     Its good advice, Reid himself can agree with that. There was nothing more disappointing than a life unstructured, with little purpose, no guidance towards some whimsical pursuit––Whether it be a profession, mastery of a skill, a partner, or traveling. He wonders if he looks as forlorn as he feels to prompt such a comment from her. 

     “That’s the thing with dreams. If you remember they are dreams, they really should be unable to break your heart. Its the pursuit that cultivates the satisfaction, not necessarily the completion. I find books good respite for when something inevitably disappoints though,” A flicker of a memory, perhaps reminiscent of childhood foolishness at fighting the reality of his mother’s depleting condition with dreams of her recovery. 

     “They’re little dream worlds that can’t let you down until you’re ready to reconsider another dream of your own.”

[klingonraised]

      Mild irritation was heating his blood, threatening to boil it. Soon. (So soon.) And the walls       of this (sad) excuse of prison wouldn't hold him back. Neither would the guns pointed at       him. Cerulean was shortly caught on the medical supply bag - things he could do with       a simple hypo.

      Muscles shifted, made his lean body tighten. Thirty seconds and he would be out of       this tiny little room. Three minutes and he would be off the ship. The simple fact, the       small circumstance of being in a wrong reality, was holding him back. He needed a       way to go back first.

      "I do not require medical attention." These were scratches which barely broke the skin.       He was prone to say he had worse. Much worse. Yet, they weren't listening. Slowly his       head shifted, expanding his vision to his right side. "I am of HEALTH." An insist that didn't       tolerated any objections.

      @starbrcken | s.c. 

[drippingledgers-blog]

"I want nothing to do with him!"

DARK RP STARTERS

Sherlock was good at MANY things, without a doubt, even he knew of it, but there was one thing he was never really good at, telling which emotion a particular SHE would feel next. Actually that’s a lie, his eyes scanned her facial features, paying attention to each detail- upset, angel, frustration, her heart is pounding rapidly against her chest and her breathing is now much faster then it was a few moments ago.

“ Keep at it and you’ll start hyperventilating. “ He replied back calmly, not phased one bit at her loud remark. Instead he smiled, curling the corner of his lips into a smug as he finally turned his body around to face her and give her his full attention. “ Now that you’ve gotten my attention- it’s funny, if you wanted nothing to do with him, why even bother? Why so angry, then? Did he break your heart once? “