#<- adding that tag just because i want to put them in an enclosure

[deviousdiesel]

most of these are messy but i needed to get them out of my system

#doodles #yaoi jumpscare. wyd #monty/diego #<- adding that tag just because i want to put them in an enclosure #ttte #ttte diesel #ttte duck #ttte lady #ttte d10

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by: @simplegenius042 @inafieldofdaisies and @adelaidedrubman

tagging: @mxanigel @madparadoxum @jillvalentinesday @confidentandgood @afarcry5fromstraight @nightbloodbix @roofgeese @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @strafethesesinners @statichvm @neverthesameneveranother @sukoshimikan @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @poetikat @fangsandroses @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt

writing tag list here to be added/removed

still 3.5 hours left on a Monday for me, and sliding in with some music and a short-ish (800 words...okay not that short, I'm sorry) snippet from the Herald/Role Swap AU aka "Kakia"

The way you keep me in pursuit Sharpen the heel of your boot And you press it to my chest and you make me wheeze Then to my knees you do promote me

...

The most unsuitable pet It's been long enough now so let's Make a mess, lioness

I'm pinned down by the dark I'm pinned down by the dark, oh

D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S A-N-I-M-A-L

tw: mentions of cannibalism, implied torture

“Tell me about Miller.” Her voice flows like honey from the darkness, sweet and sticky with her want to break him down. 

Jacob looks up at his tormentor from the shadows of his cage with a freezing stare, tossing the metal bowl of raw meat at the bars in retaliation. The clang of metal reverberates, echoing around the exterior of the camp and ringing in his ears like the church bells he was forced to grow up with in Rome. More of his “meal” splashes back at him then reaches her, but he wants his point known even as chunks of slimy, days-old  ground chuck slip down the hairs of his beard and the tip of his nose. 

Kit tuts her tongue, tapping her fingernails against her toned biceps while her arms are crossed over her chest as she stands before the bars of his enclosure. She is thoroughly unimpressed. He’s done nothing more than act like an animal in her presence, and so like an animal he will be treated. “You think I don’t know everything about you already? Who do you think picked you out of the roster to become Sheriff of this little nowheresville? I don’t need your army records, or medical files – it’s all up here,” she says pointing to her temple. “You killed him for survival. Ate the poor fuck. Didn’t you?” She scans him over like he’s a medical specimen she wants to examine, her head tipped ever so slightly. “What was that like?” 

He scraped off the meat (and the juices from it) that had splashed back on his face with his hand, shaking the chunks to the dirt floor. “If you already know, why d’you have t’ask?”

A small smile pulled at her lips, making light of the situation she was putting him in. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he’d be forced to give in eventually. Just like he had in that desert. She just had to wait him out. Gliding towards the bars, each movement elegant like a dancer and as smooth as a serpent as she drops to her knees, her bare knees grinding into the dirt as her dress clings to her athletic legs. “Because I want to hear it from your own mouth. I want to see the saliva build on your tongue while you think about the taste of him, I want to see the teeth that tore the flesh from his bone. I want to watch your pupils dilate while you remember the sounds he gurgled out.”

He’s half sure he can see her eyes glow, but he blames it on a trick of the light from the fires and his own lack of proper nutrition. Growling out a warning that builds from deep in his chest, his timbre low and rough, “Fuck. You.”

She shakes her head in retort, huffing out a bitter laugh. He’s testing her patience, more than she tends to appreciate during the chase. He’s making this more difficult than it has to be. “Yeah, yeah. Same old retort,” she says with a roll of her eyes. 

If there’s one thing Kit knows, it’s that sometimes the best way to win someone over is to play hard to get. Let them chase. She had speed and endurance on her side. It takes five hyenas to take on a lioness in the wild. What was one wolf to her?

Her palms slam against the bars, bloody juices running down the pale flesh of her palms as if she’s been overcome with the stigmata, and her voice drops to a heavy husk akin to the rumble just before the roar of a tiger, “Show me your fucking bite, doggy. I’m getting sick and tired of the bark.” 

As she rises from her knees and turns to walk away, his feet rush him to the bars of his cage against his will, hands curling around the cold metal in fists. There’s a part of him – a part of him he hates – that hopes it’s enough to win back her attention and good graces. He pants, his breaths desperate to escape him as much as the words he’s fighting from falling from him in some sort of desperate attempt at a confession. Memories that he put to rest after years of therapy come crawling out of the woodwork and there is no cork to stopper them. He steadies himself, sticking to short sentences, trying not to give her any more than he had to. “He wasn’t alive when it happened. I slit his throat first. After eight days lost in the desert he wasn’t going to make it anyway and the wolves were right behind us. It was one or both of us.”

Feet stop in their tracks, planted firmly to the ground. He watches the fog of her breath and waits expectantly like a dog on the porch for it’s master. A whipped and beaten thing that is eager for her approval. Waiting for her to turn around, to see him. 

“So you chose yourself.” Kit turns to look over her shoulder, her painted-on smile stretching across her face and a mad gleam sparkles in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says despondently, staring out over a thousand yards.

She hums, a low purring in her throat. “Good choice, pup.”

#fic: kakia #fc5 herald/role swap au #oc: kit cross #wip music monday #wip whenever #Spotify

[merakiui]

Hi Mera, just wanted to drop by to thank you for feeding us with all the shorts, thrists and ideas ;)

But at the same time whyyy do you hide some of them in the tags >.< now soft and fluffy Floyd is gonna live rent free in my mind but like not that I am complaining or something, ^^

Thank you for enjoying all of it!! >:D usually the ideas you see written in tags are ideas that come to me at the last moment while I’m adding the usual tags to a post. Thank you for reading the ramblings that I occasionally write there.

Yes, soft and fluffy Floyd is also on my mind!!! I really want to write something in which you get a job working at a harbor for the summer and meet Floyd, who quickly becomes fascinated with how willing and unafraid you are to talk to him. But Azul and Jade disapprove of humans, claiming they’re cruel and will trick innocent mers in order to capture them for things like study or taxidermy. But Floyd’s curious and he’s going to chance those dangers just so he can continue to be with you. He doesn’t realize that, with all of the time spent talking to and playing with you during your work hours, he’s starting to fall in love with you. And that’s a big problem for Azul and Jade because they’ve spent so long trying to keep him from humans. Essentially it’s a story where Floyd learns what love feels like, how to navigate these feelings, how to tell his friends he’s in love with the one thing they dislike with a passion, and how to keep this relationship afloat when you leave for university come the end of summer. :D

Floyd in captivity is another thought!! He’s hurt dozens of researchers who try to stick needles in him to gather blood and he’s even pulled one in the water with him. But his violent, defensive behaviors don’t extend to you. If anything, he seems to have grown attached to you. He let you pat him on the head once, and he’s even been spotted waiting at the surface of his enclosure for you, having memorized the times in which you usually come. I think it would be cute if he ends up favoring you because you’re interesting and haven’t forced him to do things he doesn’t want to. You’re patient and very gentle when handling him, and Floyd appreciates that. He protects you from the researchers who try to bully you into being more rough with him, especially those who seem to demand too much from you. Floyd has pulled you into the water to help you escape plenty of conversations you didn’t want to take part in. And he always smiles so wide when he’s around you. Floyd never knew of the word for these feelings, but he’ll soon learn that it’s a very pleasant thing to be around the one he likes.

Also!!! Taking the plot of the princess fic with Azul, but putting Floyd in there and he’s the one who succumbs to Stockholm syndrome after being stuck in captivity for so long. The two of you cause so much mischief when together. I think the story might progress differently if it were Floyd (or if Jade happened to be the one gifted to princess!reader >:) hehe), but I like imagining many fluffy moments between Floyd and his princess friend. Maybe you fill the void left by Jade since this is the first time Floyd has ever been separated from his twin for so long, so he grows attached rather quickly to make up for the loss and loneliness.

#twisted chit chat #fluffy floyd my beloved #also thinking of fluffy alpha floyd again #he is the sweetest T-T

[thethirdromana]

Bram Stoker's letter to Walt Whitman

I've seen a few people posting extracts and links to this remarkable letter in the Dracula Daily tag, but never the full thing - and often the links are to an abridged version as well. I thought we should have it in full.

(Apologies if someone else has done this already. I did search for it, but it's never easy to find things on tumblr.)

I have added photos to make it a bit less of a wall of text, but nothing else.

___________

Dublin, 14 February, 1876

My dear Mr. Whitman.

I hope you will not consider this letter from an utter stranger a liberty. Indeed, I hardly feel a stranger to you, nor is this the first letter that I have written to you. My friend Edward Dowden has told me often that you like new acquaintances or I should rather say friends. And as an old friend I send you an enclosure which may interest you. Four years ago I wrote the enclosed draft of a letter which I intended to copy out and send to you—it has lain in my desk since then—when I heard that you were addressed as Mr. Whitman. It speaks for itself and needs no comment. It is as truly what I wanted to say as that light is light.

Bram Stoker

The four years which have elapsed have made me love your work fourfold, and I can truly say that I have ever spoken as your friend. You know what hostile criticism your work sometimes evokes here, and I wage a perpetual war with many friends on your behalf. But I am glad to say that I have been the means of making your work known to many who were scoffers at first. The years which have passed have not been uneventful to me, and I have felt and thought and suffered much in them, and I can truly say that from you I have had much pleasure and much consolation—and I do believe that your open earnest speech has not been thrown away on me or that my life and thought fail to be marked with its impress. I write this openly because I feel that with you one must be open. We have just had tonight a hot debate on your genius at the Fortnightly Club in which I had the privilege of putting forward my views—I think with success.

Nassau St in Dublin in the 1870s

Do not think me cheeky for writing this. I only hope we may sometime meet and I shall be able perhaps to say what I cannot write. Dowden promised to get me a copy of your new edition and I hope that for any other work which you may have you will let me always be an early subscriber. I am sorry that you’re not strong. Many of us are hoping to see you in Ireland. We had arranged to have a meeting for you. I do not know if you like getting letters. If you do I shall only be too happy to send you news of how thought goes among the men I know. With truest wishes for your health and happiness believe me,

Your friend

Bram Stoker

___________

Draft letter, Dublin, 18 February, 1872.

If you are the man I take you to be you will like to get this letter. If you are not I don’t care whether you like it or not and only ask you to put it into the fire without reading any farther. But I believe you will like it. I don’t think there is a man living, even you who are above the prejudices of the class of small-minded men, who wouldn’t like to get a letter from a younger man, a stranger, across the world—a man living in an atmosphere prejudiced to the truths you sing and your manner of singing them. The idea that arises in my mind is whether there is a man living who would have the pluck to burn a letter in which he felt the smallest atom of interest without reading it. I believe you would and that you believe you would yourself. You can burn this now and test yourself, and all I will ask for my trouble of writing this letter, which for all I can tell you may light your pipe with or apply to some more ignoble purpose—is that you will in some manner let me know that my words have tested your impatience. Put it in the fire if you like—but if you do you will miss the pleasure of this next sentence, which ought to be that you have conquered an unworthy impulse.

Walt Whitman aged 35

A man who is uncertain of his own strength might try to encourage himself by a piece of bravo, but a man who can write, as you have written, the most candid words that ever fell from the lips of mortal man—a man to whose candor Rousseau’s Confessions is reticence—can have no fear for his own strength. If you have gone this far you may read the letter and I feel in writing now that I am talking to you. If I were before your face I would like to shake hands with you, for I feel that I would like you. I would like to call you Comrade and to talk to you as men who are not poets do not often talk. I think that at first a man would be ashamed, for a man cannot in a moment break the habit of comparative reticence that has become a second nature to him; but I know I would not long be ashamed to be natural before you. You are a true man, and I would like to be one myself, and so I would be towards you as a brother and as a pupil to his master. In this age no man becomes worthy of the name without an effort. You have shaken off the shackles and your wings are free. I have the shackles on my shoulders still—but I have no wings. If you are going to read this letter any further I should tell you that I am not prepared to “give up all else” so far as words go. The only thing I am prepared to give up is prejudice, and before I knew you I had begun to throw overboard my cargo, but it is not all gone yet.

I do not know how you will take this letter. I have not addressed you in any form as I hear that you dislike to a certain degree the conventional forms in letters. I am writing to you because you are different from other men. If you were the same as the mass I would not write at all. As it is I must either call you Walt Whitman or not call you at all—and I have chosen the latter course. I don’t know whether it is usual for you to get letters from utter strangers who have not even the claim of literary brotherhood to write you. If it is you must be frightfully tormented with letters and I am sorry to have written this. I have, however, the claim of liking you—for your words are your own soul and even if you do not read my letter it is no less a pleasure to me to write it. Shelley wrote to William Godwin and they became friends. I am not Shelley and you are not Godwin and so I will only hope that sometime I may meet you face to face and perhaps shake hands with you. If I ever do it will be one of the greatest pleasures of my life.

Bram Stoker in 1906

If you care to know who it is that writes this, my name is Abraham Stoker (Junior). My friends call me Bram. I live at 43 Harcourt St., Dublin. I am a clerk in the service of the Crown on a small salary. I am twenty-four years old. Have been champion at our athletic sports (Trinity College, Dublin) and have won about a dozen cups. I have also been President of the College Philosophical Society and an art and theatrical critic of a daily paper. I am six feet two inches high and twelve stone weight naked and used to be forty-one or forty-two inches round the chest. I am ugly but strong and determined and have a large bump over my eyebrows. I have a heavy jaw and a big mouth and thick lips—sensitive nostrils—a snubnose and straight hair. I am equal in temper and cool in disposition and have a large amount of self control and am naturally secretive to the world. I take a delight in letting people I don’t like—people of mean or cruel or sneaking or cowardly disposition—see the worst side of me. I have a large number of acquaintances and some five or six friends—all of which latter body care much for me.

Trinity College Dublin in the 1880s

Now I have told you all I know about myself. I know you from your works and your photograph, and if I know anything about you I think you would like to know of the personal appearance of your correspondents. You are I know a keen physiognomist. I am a believer of the science myself and am in an humble way a practicer of it. I was not disappointed when I saw your photograph—your late one especially. The way I came to like you was this. A notice of your poems appeared some two years ago or more in the Temple Bar magazine. I glanced at it and took its dictum as final, and laughed at you among my friends. I say it to my own shame but not to my regret for it has taught me a lesson to last my life out—without ever having seen your poems. More than a year after I heard two men in College talking of you. One of them had your book (Rossetti’s edition) and was reading aloud some passages at which both laughed. They chose only those passages which are most foreign to British ears and made fun of them. Something struck me that I had judged you hastily. I took home the volume and read it far into the night. Since then I have to thank you for many happy hours, for I have read your poems with my door locked late at night, and I have read them on the seashore where I could look all round me and see no more sign of human life than the ships out at sea: and here I often found myself waking up from a reverie with the book lying open before me.

I love all poetry, and high generous thoughts make the tears rush to my eyes, but sometimes a word or a phrase of yours takes me away from the world around me and places me in an ideal land surrounded by realities more than any poem I ever read. Last year I was sitting on the beach on a summer’s day reading your preface to the Leaves of Grass as printed in Rossetti’s edition (for Rossetti is all I have got till I get the complete set of your works which I have ordered from America). One thought struck me and I pondered over it for several hours—”the weather-beaten vessels entering new ports,” you who wrote the words know them better than I do: and to you who sing of your own land of progress the words have a meaning that I can only imagine. But be assured of this, Walt Whitman—that a man of less than half your own age, reared a conservative in a conservative country, and who has always heard your name cried down by the great mass of people who mention it, here felt his heart leap towards you across the Atlantic and his soul swelling at the words or rather the thoughts.

Walt Whitman in 1877

It is vain for me to try to quote any instances of what thoughts of yours I like best—for I like them all and you must feel that you are reading the true words of one who feels with you. You see, I have called you by your name. I have been more candid with you—have said more about myself to you than I have ever said to any one before. You will not be angry with me if you have read so far. You will not laugh at me for writing this to you. It was with no small effort that I began to write and I feel reluctant to stop, but I must not tire you any more. If you ever would care to have more you can imagine, for you have a great heart, how much pleasure it would be to me to write more to you. How sweet a thing it is for a strong healthy man with a woman’s eyes and a child’s wishes to feel that he can speak so to a man who can be if he wishes father, and brother and wife to his soul.

I don’t think you will laugh, Walt Whitman, nor despise me, but at all events I thank you for all the love and sympathy you have given me in common with my kind.

Bram Stoker

Walt Whitman in 1891

___________

6 March, 1876.

My dear young man,

Your letters have been most welcome to me—welcome to me as Person and as Author—I don’t know which most—You did well to write me so unconventionally, so fresh, so manly, and so affectionately, too. I too hope (though it is not probable) that we shall one day meet each other. Meantime I send you my friendship and thanks.

Edward Dowden’s letter containing among others your subscription for a copy of my new edition has just been received. I shall send the books very soon by express in a package to his address. I have just written E. D.

My physique is entirely shattered—doubtless permanently, from paralysis and other ailments. But I am up and dressed, and get out every day a little. Live here quite lonesome, but hearty, and good spirits.

Write to me again.

Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass, 1872 edition

___________

Walt Whitman and Bram Stoker met three times - in 1884, 1886 and 1887. Whitman passed away in 1892.

#dracula daily #walt whitman #bram stoker #long post

[combatfaerie]

Ficlet: It’s Evolution, Baby

Title: It's Evolution, Baby

Word count: 1,261

Rating: Teen (for innuendo, I guess)

Characters: Becky Lynch/Seth Rollins

Prompt:  A reluctant trip to the zoo to make their partner happy.

Tagged: @wrestleprompts

"The zoo? Seriously?" Seth rubbed his eyes and peered up at his wife, who was scurrying around their hotel room, unplugging phones from their chargers and gathering up belongings to be packed. Roux was following dutifully, doing her best to help. "Why do you want to go to the zoo?"

"Who doesn't want to go to the zoo?" Becky countered, checking the charge on her phone before slipping it in her purse. "Besides, they made a new enclosure for the wolves in 2019 and I haven't had a chance to see it, because... well...."

Seth knew all the things that fit inside that ellipsis. Her father's cancer diagnosis. COVID. Her pregnancy. Roux's birth. Ken's death. Her WWE comeback. Compared to any of those things, a visit to the zoo seemed trivial, but he didn't want to push in case there was more to it—a connection to her father that he wasn't aware of, perhaps, or some family tradition. "But it's our last day in Dublin...."

"The walking will count as a workout," Becky insisted. She sat beside him on the bed and leaned in to kiss him. "We can take turns carrying Roux, and get some souvenir gifts for Quill and Lotus and Dua." Then she paused. "I'm forgetting someone, aren't I? I'll go check."

He knew he was going to lose the argument, so Seth lurched out of bed and headed to the bathroom; if he could get in the shower while Roux was still busy 'helping' her mother, he might be able to get ready in peace. "Why don't we just go to a toy shop or something?" he said as he came back into the main room, twisting his wet hair up into a bun.

"ZOO!" Roux replied, running over and hugging his leg.

"You put her up to that." Seth shot Becky a look as he picked Roux up and hugged her. "She wasn't asking to go to the zoo before."

Becky sighed. "I know you love Davenport," she began slowly, "but trust me, Dublin's zoo is... better."

It was. Seth grudgingly admitted that under his breath not long after they arrived. Becky had insisted on going to the gift shop first so they wouldn't forget—or, in reality, have to make a quick exit when Roux had gone from worn out to exhausted to toddler breakdown—but after that, he gradually started to enjoy himself. Hardly anyone recognized them and those who did were polite. Roux even managed to walk many of the paths on her own, though he knew he would end up carrying her at some point. When she came running up to him, Seth assumed she was going to ask to sit on his shoulders, but instead she tugged on his hand. "Dada! Doggies!"

Seth let himself be led to the wolf exhibit, picking Roux up so she could get a better view. "These are the wolves Mama wanted to see."

Becky went over to an information plaque and read it quickly, then started simplifying for Roux. "Wolves and dogs share a common ancestor. An ancestor is like... an older relative, like Grandma." She reached over and squeezed her daughter's hand. "That means these wolves have the same ancestor as Kevin."

"Dog Kevin," Seth added quickly. Roux was so used to the family pet that when she was finally introduced to Kevin Owens, she kept looking down at the ground, expecting a small dog.

Roux watched the wolf pack for a while, nose crinkling as she thought. "How?"

Seth understood her confusion. While a dog like Cody's had an obvious connection to wolves, seeing the same lineage in their little Yorkie was more of a challenge. "It's... science," he said at last. "It's called evolution and—"

"Mama song!" Roux perked up at the familiar word and did her best to sing the words she remembered, which weren't many.

It made Becky smile, though, and she came over and kissed Roux's cheek. "That's right, baby. C'mon. There's giraffes here too. They're even taller than Dada is."

"Let's go!" Roux started climbing up onto Seth's shoulders and he immediately reached up to steady her. "Let's go, Dada!"

"We're going, we're going." Seth glanced over at his wife and wasn't surprised to see Becky smiling as she adjusted her sunglasses. "Well, you were right about the exercise, at least," he said, wrapping his hands around Roux's feet so she couldn't drum out the beat to her version of 'Do the Evolution' quite so vigorously against his chest. "It's worth the walk."

Becky wrapped an arm around his waist as they continued walking. "I'm glad. Especially since you'll be in charge of all giraffe-related requests since you're the tall one."

"And what will you handle?" Seth teased.

She pulled the phone from her purse and looked up the list of animals at the zoo. "Red pandas," she said at last, clearing her throat as she began to read a quote. "Red pandas belong to their own unique family and are not closely related to any particular species. Sounds about right, doesn't it?"

"And you also look adorable when you're angry," Seth added with a grin, "so there's that."

"You're lucky your face is all the way up there, giraffe." Becky gave him a gentle poke to the belly before walking faster.

Roux giggled, clearly thinking it had turned into a game. "Faster, Dada 'raffe!"

"Guess it's time to see if giraffes are faster than red pandas, huh?" Holding on to Roux's legs, Seth sped up and was able to catch up to Becky easily, but she pretended to ignore him—even as she was laughing. "To be fair, red pandas are always adorable," he said. "I bet that's listed as one of the facts, isn't it?"

"No. But it's a fact that there's a chocolate shop on the way back to the hotel and they have my very favourite mint chocolate." Becky smiled sweetly as she patted her daughter's leg. "And I'm sure Roux would love their chocolate too."

Seth sighed. "Then we'll stop after we're done at the zoo. But we still have lots of animals to see...."

"Says the guy who didn't want to come in the first place." Laughing, Becky went on tiptoe and kissed him, pulling Roux down from his shoulders and settling her daughter on her hip. "C'mon, Roux. Let's go look at the directory and decide who to see next."

Taking his phone from his pocket, Seth let his wife and daughter take the lead while he looked up information about red pandas. When he finally found a factoid that might work in his favour, he grinned and went to Becky's side, holding his phone steady so she could read the blurb. "You never mentioned that fact."

"Red pandas are one of the few animals on earth that can descend from heights head-first," Becky read. She was trying to keep her voice level for Roux's sake, but when she glanced up at Seth, he knew she had caught his meaning. "I suppose that would come in handy for someone who liked to... climb trees."

"Or giraffes." Seth held out his hands and Roux clambered back over to him, eagerly climbing back up onto his shoulders. When Becky arched an eyebrow, he just grinned. "Wouldn't want you to strain your arms and not be able to... climb later," he explained. They wouldn't be able to get away with such innuendo for too much longer, so he had to take his shots while he could.

Becky laughed. "What a considerate giraffe."

#wrestleprompts #combatfaerie fic #rollynch fic #brollins fic

[ocean-blue-whump]

The Safecracker

Part One // Part Two // Part Three 

Tagging @painful-pooch @winedark-whump @justplainwhump @diyalogues @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight - let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: guns

***

“Alright. The logistician’s in New York? Uh huh. Okay. Yeah. We’re about to get the safecracker. Meet you there.” 

Darien looks over at Penn. “Who was that?”

“Jude,” he says in a gruff voice. “We’re stopping in New York.”

“Yeah, I heard that.” He puts his own phone away, looking out of the truck window at the vast expanse of grass surrounding them, a few mountains in the distance. “What are we doing? Why’d you stop?”

Penn laughs, pulling the keys out of the ignition and opening his door. “We walk. Can’t drive any further.”

Darien sighs, grabbing his bag and climbing out of the truck. His keychain, a metal Starfleet Academy insignia, hits his leg, bouncing with each step on the dusty road as he walks around to Penn. “I don’t understand why I have to be here for this.”

“Because I don’t want you getting scared and running off, where I’d have to waste my precious time tracking you down again.” Penn turns around to face Darien, holding a handgun by his side. 

Darien’s heart skips a beat. A gun. The crazy idiot is holding a gun. He puts his hands up and steps back. “W-what are you doing with that?”

“Relax.” Penn checks the gun before sticking it in the waistband of his jeans. “Welcome to the field, Darien.”

“I want to go back to my desk,” he grumbles, clutching his bag. “I don’t see why a gun is necessary here.”

“Yeah, and I hope you never do.” Penn sighs, letting his sweater fall down to disguise the gun. He looks old in that moment, and Darien notices a hardness to his face that he didn’t before. “Listen. I’ll worry about the gun. You just stand there with your Star Trek bag and try not to have a panic attack, alright?”

Darien glowers at Penn, his heart still racing from the sight of the gun. “I’m not useless.” 

“Never said you were. Now you’re just reaching.” Penn chuckles and locks his truck, scanning their surroundings. “Damn. This isn’t where I expected our safecracker to be.”

As Penn sets off walking, Darien tries to keep up, grateful he’s wearing black Converse instead of his white pair, with how much dust the wind picks up. “Yeah. It’s kind of…the middle of nowhere.”

Penn slings his hands in his pockets, looking almost casual, but Darien can’t forget he has a gun. “Well, it’s outside of his normal pattern of behavior. His name is Scipio. He’s a…” He smirks. “Do you remember what it was like working with Jude?”

“Yeah, she’s straightforward.” Darien pauses, trying to think of the right words. “Professional.” It’s almost ironic, calling this business professional. 

Penn just nods. “Yeah. Scipio…I’ve never worked with him, but apparently he’s the opposite. He used to perform in Vegas. Houdini type shit, plus normal lockpicking. And then, of course, on the side, he put those skills to use after the show. I still don’t understand why all those fancy hotel and casino owners let him on the property, considering his tagline was something about being able to crack any safe in the world.”

“So he stole from the places he performed at,” Darien says to clarify. At least Penn’s giving him a debrief on what’s going on, ever since the mistake he made about not asking him what the target was.

“Yep. But they were catching onto him.” Penn shrugs. “Then he went missing. Turns up here. Which is very, very good for us.”

“Why’s that?” Darien asks. “Wouldn’t it mean he’s out of practice and, and not the best?”

“That’s not how that works. It’s like riding a bicycle. He hasn’t forgotten. And this is good for us because it means he’s not running a contract with any other thieves. He’s not working a job, probably low on money. He’ll take my offer.” 

Penn’s got a gun, and no matter how casually he acts, Darien can’t forget that, especially as they approach a worn down wooden fence marking a dusty enclosure. 

There’s a man riding a chesnut colored horse, moving at a fast clip. He’s got cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a blue button down shirt on, topped off by a straw hat, and he’s the perfect level between muscular and lean, his muscles visible as he jumps the horse over some bars. And that face…

Fuck. Darien feels himself blush looking at his face. He’s attractive, light brown eyes and stubble, brown hair cut short under his hat. This better not be Penn’s safecracker, because Darien’s going to have a very hard time focusing with him on the team. 

When he spots them, he rides over and slides off the horse’s back, holding the reins in one hand. “Can I help you?” he asks in a strong British accent. 

Fortunately, Penn steps forward and saves Darien from further embarrassment. “Yeah. We’re looking for Scipio.”

The man shrugs, but there’s the faintest look of concern on his face. “Sorry, mate, don’t know who that is.”

“Ah, bullshit. You might be able to run from Vegas, but I know who you are.” Penn leans against the railing. “You’re one hell of a safecracker.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “This is what I do.”

Penn shakes his head, turning away, and Darien thinks he’s going to give up, but instead he reaches across the fence and grabs the man’s wrist, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a tiny tattoo of a key. “Knew it was there. Hi, Scipio.” Penn lets go of his wrist and turns to Darien. “That key was the Illustrious Illusionist’s logo when he was still performing in Vegas. And the Illustrious Illusionist is…”

“Scipio,” Darien breathes out, looking at the man with wide eyes. 

Scipio grumbles and pulls his wrist back, glaring at both of them. “What are you, fucking cops?” 

Penn laughs. “Yeah, not even close. We’ve got a job offer for you.”

Scipio leans against the horse, one calloused hand brushing through its mane. His fingers are long and surprisingly delicate, Darien catches himself staring and blushes. “Yeah, a job? I thought no one could find me out here.”

“Yeah, well, we need someone with your specific skillset to work a job.” Penn grins. “Unless you think you can’t do it anymore?”

Oh. Oh. Darien holds back his annoyance at realizing exactly how Penn manipulated him, and the same is about to happen to Scipio, but he stays silent. Penn, despite his many, many flaws, knows what he’s doing, and Darien remembers how cleanly the Lisbon job went. 

Scipio scoffs. “Excuse me, of course I can do it.”

Penn’s grin only grows. “You don’t even know what kind of locks you’ll be working with.”

“Please, like it matters.” Scipio fixes Penn with a dirty look. “I don’t need to know what kind of lock it is. I can work with anything, anywhere, anytime, with anyone. Even a prick like you.”

God, Penn is good at this. It’s almost scary to watch. 

Penn lets the insult roll of his back, keeping his smile. “So then prove it. Work with me here. Plus, there’s also 1.4 million dollars in it for you. Probably will do you some good, since you’ve been out of work for so long.”

Scipio shakes his head. “You bastard.”

“Name’s Penn, by the way. But bastard works.” Penn gestures to Darien. “This is Darien. He’s the tech.”

Darien awkwardly waves, not knowing what else to do. “Um, hi?”

Scipio gives Darien a nod. “Fifteen minutes. Give me fifteen minutes to say goodbye to my horse and get my bag. I assume that’s what you want, right? We’re going somewhere else.”

“New York,” Penn says. “Picking up the rest of the crew.”

Scipio doesn’t say anything, getting back on his horse and riding off towards a small farmhouse and barn in the distance. 

“That was…quick,” Darien says, turning to Penn. “I’m just glad you didn’t shoot him.”

“Some people don’t need much persuading.” Penn straightens up, checking his phone. “Damn. No service.”

This man is worried about phone service when he has a gun. 

“I had service back at the truck…” He sighs and puts the phone away. “It’s fine. Scipio better get his ass out here soon.”

“Do you really think he’s coming back?” Darien asks. “I mean, you didn’t exactly do that much convincing.”

“I mean, you didn’t take too much convincing yourself,” Penn says with a chuckle.

“I—” Darien falls silent, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

Scipio comes walking down the hill, a backpack thrown over his shoulder, and he hops the fence in one smooth movement. “Shall we, then?”

Penn turns sharply on one heel, leading them back to the truck. Darien takes shotgun again, leaving Scipio in the back. “Seriously? You drive this piece of shit?” Scipio asks. 

Penn throws his keys on the driver’s seat, but stays standing outside the car. “She’s not a piece of shit.” He reaches behind him and pulls the gun out with a grunt. 

“Woah!” Scipio jumps back, almost hitting his head on the ceiling. “You brought a fucking gun?”

Penn rolls his eyes. “You both need to relax.” He ejects the magazine and stores both of them in the side of the door, climbing into the car. 

Darien doesn't know what to say, what to make of his new boss being so nonchalant about walking around with a gun. 

Scipio, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have a problem with talking as Penn starts driving. “You brought a fucking gun? Just casually. Brought a gun and didn’t think it’d be relevant to tell me that.”

“Yep!” Penn has to yell a little bit to be heard over the sound of his truck and the bumpy road. “You might be a master safecracker, Scipio, but you’re out of practice. And Darien here’s had no practice. Welcome to my operation.”

“Oh, fucking hell, what have I signed myself up for?” Scipio groans, flopping over in the backseat, his hat sliding low over his face. 

Darien finally turns around, looking at him and his annoyingly handsome self. “A million dollars.”

He lifts his hat up just enough for Darien to see one of his eyes. “Yeah. You know…fair enough.”

#heist team #darien #penn #scipio #whump #whumblr #writeblr #blue's words

[adorethedistance]

Baby Fever - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, discussion of reproduction, a child (no-)

Words: 2502

Summary: You and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own.

A/n: This was written in like three hours and I’m exhausted it’s skimmed at best but this is just something I’ve had in my mind and as y’all know by now, writing fics is how I retire my dreamland scenarios of romance. Enjoy my brain giving 82% of her all :)

“You ready, little one?” I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat. Owen and I had been wanting to plan a zoo date for the longest time, but never had the opportunity to until now; when Jer and Carolynn needed a well-deserved day of rest, and Charlie was back in Dieppe for the next month, that left Owen and me as the next in line to take care of 10-month-old baby Shada. The two parents hadn’t decided on a name until after she was born, so the rest of our friends got comfortable with referring to her as ‘baby Shada’ or ‘CJ’ short for ‘Care and Jer’s’ kid.

Owen and I left the house at 8:45 sharp to get to the park in a timely manner. We weren’t too concerned with arriving when the park opened seeing as it was a Wednesday morning in the middle of February. Children should be in school, non-actors should be in the office, and surely other young babies and new moms should be attending mommy and me yoga classes or something.

“Do you have the bag?” I ask, surveying the car for any loose items.

“Yeah, it’s on the floor. Do you want me to carry the bag or the baby first?”

“You babysit first. I can handle tickets.” Owen nods and gingerly unbuckles the car seat to scoop up the currently calm child and slip her into the black baby carrier we opted for instead of a stroller. I put on the backpack with all her baby items and some of our essential possessions, and together we walk to enter the park. CJ is smiling brightly as she takes in all the different sights and sounds of the entrance. The image is just too adorable, I have to make Owen stop under the giant sign to take a picture of the two of them. I send it to both parents as the first update of the day, knowing they won’t treasure the photo as much as I will, because they aren’t in love with Owen in the way that I am.

Owen and I have talked about kids before. Once, on our first date when he asked me if I had any names picked out, which I didn’t. And second, when I informed him we would be entrusted with the care of CJ the following week; it was when we began brainstorming activities to do with her that Owen brought up having our own kids. It took me by surprise that he used the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. A small language thing to pick up on, but a huge life thing to process. He talked about making memories with CJ and being the first ones to take her to the zoo, with the consent of her parents. Truth be told, I don’t love kids or the idea of kids in the way that Owen does, so I was a little hesitant to speak my mind. But I didn’t miss the way he held his hand on my stomach as we fell asleep that night. And I didn’t miss the hopeful glint in his eyes when I’d asked his opinion on a few names I liked the next morning.

“What do you wanna do first, CJ?” Owen’s question elicits an excited squeal from her as a response which makes the two of us laugh. I quickly snag a map from the front stand and survey our route options before I feel Owen’s right hand come to rest on my lower back. I glance up to see him peering at the map over my shoulder. My movement prompts him to face me and give me a soft, comforting smile. I feel like spending forever looking into Owen’s breathtaking eyes, but the baby strapped to his chest has other plans. She begins flailing wildly to convey all the excitement coursing through her little body. We laugh once more and Owen presses a quick kiss to her head, which messes up her hat’s placement on her head. I shake my head, stepping in front of my fiance, completely ignoring him. My tunnel vision hyperfocus is set on adjusting the brim of the bucket hat to protect baby Shada from the sun.

“There we go.” When I look back up Owen is staring at me with the softest closed mouth smile I’ve ever seen, “What?”

“Nothing. Where to, Mamacita?”

“Mamacita? Whatever. I say we take this path that way we can start with the elephants and condors, and that’ll take us to the polar bear cove.”

“Lead the way.”

Owen slips his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers and giving me an affirming squeeze. As we’re walking to the elephant exhibit, CJ’s happy mood means she must wave her tiny hand at every person we pass. Other parents with babies her same age, being the majority of the crowd that’s free on a Wednesday morning, smile and wave back to her. Along the front street, the initial entrance crowd begins to dwindle and there are fewer people for her to wave at. Then, a woman who’s probably in her late forties, early fifties sees CJ wave to her. The woman is wearing black pants, a soft maroon top, and a name tag that reads ‘Linda’. Judging by the fact that she gets to wear red instead of the familiar forest green, I can conclude she’s a higher up when it comes to her position here at the zoo.

“You guys are such a beautiful family.”

“Oh, we’re n-”

“Thank you!” Owen speaks over my refutation. The woman then begins to approach us, and I look up at my serious boyfriend in confusion. He whispers, “Let’s pretend. It’ll be fun.” I mean, I’m not much of an actor but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“How old is she?”

“10 months,” he answers seamlessly, using the back of his index finger to lovingly stroke CJ’s round cheek.

“She is just so darling, I’m sure you two must be very proud. They grow so fast, you know? I remember having little ones running around all the time and suddenly they’re off to college. Is she your first child?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one for now.” For now? Wow Owen, when you create a world you really live in it.

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. They’re only babies for so long.” Linda smiles down and CJ once more before bidding me and Owen goodbye.

“For now?” I ask, incredulously when the woman is out of earshot.

“Yeah,” he shrugs playfully, “CJ’s so well behaved I’m sure we can manage another one.”

“Uh-huh. Are you aware she’s not actually our child?” Owen sighs out a smile and takes my hand as he begins on our trek to the elephant enclosure. When he speaks again, I nearly miss it from how quiet he’s talking,

“S’wishful thinking.”

“What did you just say?” I’m curious to see if he’ll repeat it to my face.

“I said it’s wishful thinking.”

“To have a second child to our nonexistent first child?”

“No,” he nudges my shoulder with his own as we walk, “To have a child period.”

“Nice try. Your baby fever isn’t gonna rub off on me so easily.” He scoffs out a laugh,

“It’s still early. We’ve got the whole day to fix that.” Seamlessly pulling Owen to a stop, I don’t pause our conversation as I step in front of him. My gaze doesn’t meet his eyes as I straighten CJ’s hat once more.

“Well, bear in mind we’re basically on the clock here, and CJ is a tiny person before she’s a persuasion tactic.” I lunge one foot back to make sure the hat is even, and that the baby can still see from under it. When I deem her hat positioning satisfactory, CJ smiles up at me at the same time that paints Owen’s flushed face. He holds his hand straight out in front of his body for me to take, and when I do, he pulls me in to clasp both hands together and rest them on my lower back. Minimal visitors in the zoo is definitely a perk as Owen’s far more physically affectionate without others around. I rest my hands on the portion of his chest that isn’t occupied by CJ’s happy demeanor.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be the mothering type. I’m just not… good with kids.”

“I understand your reluctance… but I’m gonna get you on board by the end of the day.”

“Yeah okay, Joyner. Whatever you say.”

Owen smiles down at me with a love as infinite as the number of stars in the universe. CJ squeals between us and I babble back at her in a higher pitch than my usual speaking voice. She squawks again and we go back and forth like this for a little while until she sticks her tongue out at me in between a smile. My jaw drops in a surprised, amused, and simultaneously offended manner, and I take her chubby little baby foot in my hand and squeeze gently, causing her to screech through fits of giggling.

“When did you learn how to do that? Owen, did you-” The words die on my tongue when I see the expression on Owen’s face. He’s wholly enamored and yet so smug at the same time. I feel my face heat up a little bit; I don’t even have to ask what he’s thinking.

“‘I’m just not good with kids’ my ass.”

“There are impressionable ears around. And I do not sound like that.”

“She’s not gonna remember any of this in a week, and yes. You do.” I glare at Owen with an expression of intolerance but my facade is crumbled as I can’t mask the growing smile he elicits by mimicking my expression.

“Let’s go you two.”

After what felt like an eternity we’ve finally made it to the elephant exhibit. The herd of African elephants are spread across the enclosure, some playing in water, some feeding from hay baskets, and a baby closely following it’s mother as she walks across the paddock. When Owen appears beside me

“Do you need a break? We can switch off and you carry the bag.”

“Sure.” I set the baby backpack on the bench behind us and unbuckle the fastenings of the carrier to prop CJ on the side of my hip. As we wait for Owen to take the carrier off his body, I walk her up to the wooden railing that surrounds the elephants’ enclosure. Of course, the sight ahead excites her and she begins bouncing on my side as a means of conveying her feelings. She makes a sound that I interpret as an interrogative before pointing to the animals.

“You see the elephants, CJ?”

“Uh-huh.” She lifts her tiny baby hand into the air and waves the best she can at the elephants, none of which are even looking our way.

“Are we waving? Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave with her and gauge her smile to be even bigger than when she’d stuck her tongue out two minutes ago.

“Hi ephants!” I freeze mid wave in shock. Did she just-?

“Did you just? Owen!”

“Yeah?” he calls from behind us, still getting all our things in order.

“Did Carolynn or Jeremy say what her first words were?”

“Uhhhh, no. They said she hasn’t been speaking words yet, just consonant sounds,” Owen leaves the items unattended seeing as there’s no one else around,  “Why?”

“CJ. Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave at the animals once more, praying that that wasn’t a fluke.

“Hi ephants.” Upon hearing her speak, Owen’s face holds the same expression as mine did just two seconds ago.

“Should we video it and send it to them or pretend it never happened so they can be the ones that hear her first words?”

“Take a video, or take a secret to our graves?” He pretends to weigh the options as if this is the most perilous decision we’ll ever make.

“You’re right, you’re right. Will you grab my phone for me?”

“Where is it?”

“My back pocket that the baby is currently sitting on.” I turn around to let Owen grab the device and unlock it for me.

“Should I just get you guys in the video or the elephants, too?”

“What are you talking about? Get in the video!” I scold him for trying to worm his way out of this memory. “Make yourself useful and revive your long lost vlogging skills.” Owen rolls his eyes but flips to the front facing camera and hits record all the same.

“Say ‘hi mom, hi dad’,” I direct CJ and she merely waves at me, not fully understanding the concept of vlogging at the ripe age of 10 months. “Update number 2: we’re at the elephant enclosure and CJ made some friends. Hey,” I speak quietly to capture her attention. “Can you say ‘hi elephants’?”

“Hi ephants!” She screams and then laughs, throwing her head back to make sure Owen is still present.

“A new word!” I cheer as Owen lowers my phone to stop the recording,

“New skill unlocked.” He hits stop and proceeds to trade me CJ for the phone for a quick second so I can send the video to the not exactly new parents.

“They’re gonna love this.” I click my phone off and tuck it back into my back pocket. Retrieving the baby carrier from the desolate bench, I slip it on to strap myself in before CJ. Once secured, I look up to take her from Owen but blink in surprise that they’re no longer standing in front of me. I turn slightly to my left to see CJ stumbling forward on wobbling legs whilst Owen keeps her standing. He removes his hands from her sides and allows her to grab a hold of both of his index fingers in either hand. Slowly, he walks her closer to where I’m standing one tiny step at a time.

The sight in front of me is so sweet there’s a strange feeling culminating in my chest. A micro trace of baby fever crosses my mind at the thought of Owen teaching our own baby to walk. The smile on his face is unlike anything I’ve seen before and the prospect of having kids suddenly becomes less dreary. I’ve always been afraid of being a bad parent, or messing up someone else’s life, but with Owen, all those fears disappear. Becoming a parent is no longer bleak; the thought of raising kids with someone as loving and enthusiastic as Owen, the world seems all that much brighter.

“Y/n,” he calls to get my attention, unaware I’ve been watching for the past few minutes. When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body, and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple, “I told you so.”

***

A/n: lawd help me I have been putting off so many requests to write self indulgent bs pls don’t hate me.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1 @joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

#Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the phantoms fanfiction #Julie and the phantoms fanfic #Julie and the phantoms fic #Julie and the phantoms writing #Julie and the phantoms imagine #Julie and the phantoms oneshot #Julie and the phantoms one shot #Julie and the phantoms fluff #Julie and the phantoms smut #Julie and the phantoms angst #Owen Joyner #Owen Joyner fanfiction #Owen Joyner fanfic #Owen Joyner fic #Owen Joyner writing #Owen Joyner imagine #Owen Joyner oneshot #Owen Joyner one shot #Owen Joyner fluff #Owen Joyner smut #Owen Joyner angst #Owen Joyner x reader #Owen Patrick Joyner #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfiction #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfic #Owen Patrick Joyner fic #Owen Patrick Joyner writing #Owen Patrick Joyner imagine #Owen Patrick Joyner oneshot

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

In the Shadows (Romantic Analogical Pining)

Words: 1,832 Warnings: Food, Animals/Pets, One-Sided Pining Characters: Logan, Virgil Ships: Analogical Universe: Gen Human AU Genre: Pining, Fluff Additional Tags: Pining!Logan, Oblivious!Virgil

   Logan couldn’t help it. He was not observing the screen as the movie wrapped up. He was enjoying seeing Virgil emote along with the characters. Virgil picked at the dregs of the popcorn absentmindedly and kissed popcorn bits off of his fingers, engrossing Logan even further. Logan had selected the movie, even, for all intents and purposes, he should be watching it. But something about the way the lights from the screen bounced off of Virgil’s face had drawn his attention and enveloped him. He was lucky that Virgil didn’t seem to notice him outright starting at that mesmerizing lopsided smirk and listen to him mutter critiques of character choices to himself.

   The movie ended and Virgil patted his legs and deposited the empty cup in the paper popcorn bag before standing up out of the seat. Logan panicked when Virgil looked over at him and grabbed Virgil’s sleeve to stop him. He had to say something. He was utterly enchanted by Virgil, and it felt like the affection might burst out of him if he kept avoiding it any longer. Virgil paused and peered at Logan in confusion.

   “What’s up, L?” Virgil asked curiously.

   “Virgil, I…” Logan trailed off, swiftly losing his nerve. He swallowed heavily and drew a struggled breath. “Prefer to watch the credits. These people put significant effort into the creation of the film and deserve acknowledged.”

   “Oh, sure,” Virgil nodded and settled down into the theatre seat again. “You’re totally right, I feel like an asshole now,” he murmured, and Logan could barely hear his voice over the blaring end credits song playing over the speaker system.

   Shit. Logan shook his head. “You’re not,” he corrected him. “No one else is bothering to stay, either,” he pointed out.

   “Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t make it right. No, I liked the movie, it’s worth watching some names scroll.” Virgil shot Logan a small smile, making his heart clench in his chest. “If I hated it, though, I’d storm out of here,” Virgil added with a roguish look before glancing up at the gigantic movie screen again. Logan watched Virgil’s pupils scan the movie before turning to study them himself.

   Virgil started whispering interesting sound last names to himself as he read along. “Holy crap, Killmaster is such a cool name,” he muttered reverently. If Logan wasn’t leaned in so close, he might have missed it.

   “If the last name was from a profession and not chosen, I would wonder if their ancestor was a gladiator or perhaps a legendary hunter,” Logan mused quietly, though he had no reason to other than the fact that it was polite to talk softly during a movie.

   “A legendary badass,” Virgil hissed back, bumping Logan’s bicep with his shoulder. Logan’s heart jumped at the contact, and once more he was overwhelmed with the need to try and tell Virgil his feelings.

   “Virgil, have you ever… struggled to tell someone something important?” Logan asked, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.

   “Sure, all the time,” Virgil nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen. “What kind of thing? Maybe I can help,” he offered guilelessly. Logan gripped his jeans nervously.

   “How to inform someone that you like them,” Logan clarified, his throat betraying him and tightening as he spoke. He exhaled harshly, trying to calm back down.

   “Oh, that’s a tough one. I guess, for you, it’d be best to be straightforward and say you like them. Just force it out if you have to,” Virgil suggested thoughtfully.

   “I see.” Logan wrung his hands together and glanced down at the ground. Being direct. Logan wasn’t good at using flowery, romantic language. Virgil was right. He just needed to do it. Logan took a deep breath to steady himself. “I like you,” Logan said evenly, looking at Virgil hopefully.

   “Yeah, exactly like that. You got this,” Virgil looked to Logan with that little smile that usually melted his heart. But at the moment, it was too wrapped up in confusion to react. Did Virgil not… Perhaps he was so caught up in trying to express his feelings that it did not occur to him that Virgil wouldn’t be interested in hearing it. Perhaps it was best if Virgil didn’t understand.

   Logan sat back and examined the credits in silence. He was deeply conflicted between the desire to clarify his feelings and respecting Virgil’s space. If Virgil didn’t even think of Logan like that enough to have the context that Logan was confessing, it seemed like Virgil wanted to remain friends. Or perhaps cut ties altogether after this, now that he knew Logan liked him. Pining helplessly hurt, but being completely cut off would be worse. Logan had to prevent that outcome at all costs. He would rather remain friends than be nothing to Virgil, and if he had to quell his feelings, he could do that. He hoped.

   The last of the credits rolled, and Virgil got out of his seat once more, holding out his hand to help Logan up. Logan gave him a compressed smile and stood up on his own. Virgil tilted his head in confusion and shrugged lightly, and they walked out of the theater together.

   Virgil and Logan walked into the mall and Virgil pulled out his phone to check the time. Logan panicked, wondering if he was already looking for an excuse to leave. He had to come up with a way to combat it. He needed more time to prove he could be just friends.

   “I have some free time. Do you want to go around the mall? I haven’t been in ages and probably need to walk off all that soda. I’m feeling a little jittery,” Virgil offered, scanning the area.

   Logan let out a sigh of relief. “I would like that.” Logan nodded, gripping at the hem of his shirt.

   They walked together down the narrow hall that connected the theater to the food court. Virgil stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and Logan mirrored him by shoving his fidgeting hands into his jeans pockets. They meandered the mall together companionably, and Logan felt relieved that Virgil didn’t opt to just leave after the confession. Virgil pointed out interesting things to Logan as if he had never said anything during the credits.

   “Oh, dude, look at those birds,” Virgil stepped up excitedly to a pet store window, glancing back to Logan with a hopeful look on his face.

   “They are lovely, yes,” Logan agreed with Virgil’s unspoken compliment as he beamed into the window.

   “Let’s go in.” Virgil pulled at Logan’s polo and headed into the open store hastily. Virgil rushed up to the large cylinder full of parakeets and leaned in to watch a pair grooming each other. He sighed happily and circled it, checking out all the birds it contained before moving on.

   Next, Virgil looked at all the various tank pets. He cooed at dwarf hamsters, stuck out his tongue at the lizards, hissed at the snakes, and lingered at a tarantula he seemed enamoured with. Virgil seemed determined to look at every pet in the store, and Logan had to admit he loved seeing him be so animated, even if he was trying to deny the part of himself in love with Virgil. He could pretend he watched Virgil purely platonically on the outside, at least.

   Virgil got permission for the pair to enter the cat enclosure and stepped in quickly. Virgil sat down on the bench and held out his hand instead of approaching any of the cats. Logan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms to watch Virgil’s determined face. Logan had concluded that Virgil was so interested in the small creatures that he was paying zero attention to Logan, and thusly Logan could secretly enjoy Virgil’s presence without maintaining any pretense.

   A black cat with a small tuft of white fur on its chest walked up cautiously to Virgil’s hand and sniffed it carefully. It reared back twice, seemingly unsure. It backed up and watched as other cats did the same, not letting Virgil touch it yet. A white cat bumped its hand against Virgil’s hand and he stroked across its long body. The cat looked incredibly satisfied and kept circling around again to get more pets from Virgil. The black cat approached slowly, sniffing again. Virgil raised his other hand for the black cat to sniff once more.

   The white cat wandered over to brush up against Logan’s legs, startling Logan from observing Virgil. Logan knelt down to let the cat sniff its hand before he offered it a few pets as well, since it was working so hard for the affection. The black cat didn’t push into Virgil’s hand, but instead hopped right up into Virgil’s nap and nestled in. Virgil made an expression like his heart exploded, rubbing the cat’s cheeks. The black cat purred so loudly even Logan could hear it over the light purrs of the white cat Logan was still petting.

   “Oh my god, I love her,” Virgil whispered, looking up at the poster on the wall with her information. The cat’s name was Shadow, and she was two years old. Compared to the kittens, she had a very reasonable adoption fee and was listed as ‘skittish, but affectionate’ in her personality profile, along with ‘vocal and independent’. Logan had to agree with that assessment.

   Virgil sat with Shadow for a few minutes, and the white cat had lost interest, wandering off to play with a ball track toy instead. Virgil kept stroking Shadow’s cheek tenderly, totally taken in by the cat. Logan stood back up and returned to viewing Virgil and Shadow interact.

   “Are you going to adopt her?” Logan asked softly.

   “My lease has a no-pets policy,” Virgil murmured, his face betraying how absolutely heartbroken he was. He stroked the cat’s back sullenly, sagging into himself.

   “My lease does not,” Logan blurted out, and Virgil’s eyes shot up to Logan’s in surprise. Logan cleared his throat, disbelieving the words that were coming out of his own mouth. “I could adopt her. That way, you may come over whenever you like to see her,” Logan offered. Was he truly willing to adopt a living creature just to hold on to Virgil? Yes. Yes, he was. “I would need help taking care of her, of course,” he added as Virgil stared at Logan in astonishment.

   “You’re serious?” Virgil asked flatly, his hand never moving off of shadow.

   “Necktie.” Logan pulled at his tie and dropped it on his chest, smiling at Virgil.

   “Right, right,” Virgil chuckled and looked down at Shadow. “Then… you’re sure?” Virgil asked meekly.

   “I’m certain.” Logan relaxed and moved to sit on the bench with Virgil. If Logan had an excuse to see Virgil every day he could, he’d happily care for a cat. He wouldn’t mind the company for his lonely, pining heart, either.

   “Thank you,” Virgil whispered softly.

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ayri writes #shorts #ts logan #ts virgil #analogical #analogical pining #one sided pining #pets #food

[xxtraord1nary]

Fantasy

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is my first published work wish me luck! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Summary: Ethan gets caught up in a steamy situation with his sexier than ever protégée who continues to run through this mind.

Warnings: Foreplay, Mild Language, NSFW!

Tags: @katkart122 @justanotherrookie @missmiimiie @starrystarrytrouble @openheartfanfics @dr-colossal-pita @heauxplesslydevoted @the-pale-goddess @rookie-ramsey @perriewinklenerdie @ernestsinclairs @writinghereandthere

As she slowly dragged her impeccably manicured ivory polished nails up the expanse of his mildly hairy broad chest Ethan found it quite hard to control his breathing and remain impassive to the bewitching woman before him. One thing about him was that he was not intimidated by anyone, and certainly not a first year resident for that matter but the divine woman had the ability to turn a highly intellegant diagnostician like himself to a puddle of mush.

For if she told him to jump he’d dutifully ask how high in attempts to please her. Her luminous golden brown eyes shone as bright as the afternoon sun through a glass of whiskey as they bore into his never ending sea blue ones challenging him. Almost daring him to stop her.

But that was the fun of it. He couldn’t no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t. For how many times he unsuccessfully attempted to remind himself that a relationship between them was highly inappropriate and would be detrimental to her development as a doctor. As if she could hear his repetitive mindless thoughts, she rolled her eyes so hard she could’ve sworn she saw the back of her damn brain.

But instead of starting another asinine argument which would draw them to the same conclusion of him once again pushing her away and ultimately hurting them both she pushed him onto the couch behind them and she stood her grond in front of him and dropped to her knees. And without word began to run her hands over the front of his slacks which by the minute became increasingly uncomfortable as just the intense eye contact between the pair made him want to get on his knees and worship her body all night long.

“We seem to have quite the situation on our hands now don’t we Dr. Ramsey?” she remarked in a faux surprised voice as she ghosted her dainty fingers over his covered member. The combination of her heavenly touch and the use of his title rolling off her tongue in her paradisiacal french accent made him choke out a strangled groan. She moved herself upon the couch next to him leaning over his tall and domineering stature reduced to a dazed mess of a man.

“Would you like me to take care of this for you? Hm, is it my hands you want all over you and making you feel pleasured?” she asked once again, always being one to derive more pleasure from her lovers verbal affirmations of her actions. Trying and failing to form a coherent sentence after her line of questioning once she immediately applied more pressure and began to gently stroke him through his slacks.

Unable to produce words he instead looked down at her hands as they worked their magic he had to put his hands over hers to halt her ministrations to prevent him from unraveling so soon as he much preferred to be inside her. “Rookie-” he tried to protest but was quickly brought to silence by a finger to his lips. “I want you silent,Dr. Ramsey. Wanna know why?” he wordlessly nodded completely transfixed by the melanated enchantress.

“Because I’m in charge, and you're gonna and obey. Understand?” he eagerly nodded and with the consent she craved she continued her ministrations with more pressure this time and delved between the crook of his neck eliciting a loud moan from the object of her desires.

“Good god Charlotte.” he rasped out in a haze of pleasure causing her smirk and nip at his throat and making her way down to his adams apple. The confirmation of his pleasure only increased her own as well as her name on his lips which she wouldn’t mind a taste of at the moment. And with that thought she wasted no time in detaching herself from him only to straddle him and strip her scrub top from her body revealing to him a sight that could bring a hundred men to their knees in submission full mounds that hypnotized him at their every sway to which he hurriedly took handfuls of.

She wasted no time in tugging him roughly by the back of his neck causing their lips colliding together in a mix of unrelenting longing and pent up lust that had been expressed through their longer than necessary glances and not so innocent accidental touches throughout their work days that left him a flushed mess and her a smirking bundle of arrogance. Releasing this pent of lust he began to palm her generous backside and dig his nails into her wide tantalizing hips hard enough to surely leave a mark. As she choked out a moan from the pleasure of him unofficially staking his claim.

Somehow the woman on top of him could do what no woman ever had the avail to do, and that was have complete and utter control over Ethan Ramsey. So infatuated with the woman she could break his heart a million times over and he’d still come back dutifully on his knees. As bad as it may be within the short span of a year Charlotte Adora West had the key to his heart and soul and virtually owned him. Her other hand leaving it’s firm grip on his throat ventured down between them and free him from the confining space of his underwear held him firmly in her grasp and next he did something that shocked the hell out of her and turned them both on by belief all at the same time.

He brought her fingers resting on his face into the warm enclosure of his mouth and expertly sucked his fingers with profound experience and she began her quest of bringing to his peak with skilled adept and in response he dipped his hand into her scrubs and began to skillfully rub her bud with his thumb and forefinger causing her moan and breathe harshly. Replacing her fingers with her mouth they became a mess of panting and moaning tangled tongues and limbs.

As she climaxed her voice rang out in the empty space bringing him to his peak of pleasure to let out a husky growl and her to speed up stroking before-

A loud resounding smack on his desk bringing him out of his scandalous daydream and back into the present expanse of the diagnostic teams office to be met with the inquisitive prodding amber eyes of the subject of all his desires. Dr. Charlotte West herself.

As she just so happened to glance down at the tightening of his slacks she laughed quietly to herself and muttered something he couldn’t understand in french and returned her gaze to his with a knocking smirk.

“What were you fantasizing about Dr. Ramsey?” she seductively inquired, never making the move to break eye contact. He sputtered clearly embarrassed as he was no more than a blushing mess at the moment. “Dr. W-west, what are you doing in here?” he fumbled trying to look anywhere but her beautiful face. “This is the team office, remember? And I needed you to sign this.” she said slyly, still smirking subtly as she handed him a patient chart. “Oh.” he said, snatching up the chart and hurriedly signing his messy signature. “Merci.” she remarked on her way out the door but not before turning back to not so subtly eye his obvious hard of which he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

“Next time you’ll have to call me to fix that, try not to daydream too much of me sir.” she said chuckling before adding, “This is a hospital, Dr. Ramsey” not forgetting to send a suggestive wink his way on her way out leaving her once again victorious at his misery.

The most rewarding in her opinion.

And a flustered Ethan Ramsey, a world famous diagnostician, was left a muddled mess in his chair admiring the view of Charlotte's curvy figure that her scrubs did little to nothing to hide as she effortlessly swayed her way out of his office.

Fin.

Thanks for reading!

#ethan ramsey #original character #poc #blackwoman #femalelead #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fic #Spotify

[this-solaris-life]

Hello You

Day: 01 - Strangers Rating: G Pairings: M: #Xicheng BG: #Sangyu, #WeiNing 📷 Tags: Modern/NoPowers; First Meetings; Fluff; Mentions of beginning of Online Stalking.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ “Oh we’ve got to try out this store. Wei Wuxian.” Nie Huaisang grinned, pointing to the sleek black building that was a lingerie store. “I know that you’ve looking to spice up your wardrobe!” He snickered, the fan he’d chosen making the sweet smelling perfume he’d chosen to wear today mix more into the air. While it was nice, it wasn’t Jiang Cheng’s taste. He shifted his gaze to the bookstore.

Twin Jades Meets Books

“Cute.” Jiang Cheng murmured under his breath seeing the rolling clouds with two jumping bunnies chasing a book for a logo. The design of the building is that new modern industrial vibe with metal, glass, and wood accents. From the massive large windows he could see there was hanging plants and he wondered if the tree he was seeing was real or fake. His curiosity was piqued though.

“What’s cute?” Wei Wuxian asked, having heard his best friend. His grey eyes followed Jiang Cheng’s line of sight. When he saw that it was the bookstore, he wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him close. “Oh, I see. You’d rather be with your stuffy books then come try on some silk.”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng told him bluntly. Because to be honest the last time he’d let himself get roped into going into a lingerie store with the two of them. He ended up on the receiving end of a fashion show and hadn’t wanted to know the preferences of their lovers nor see that much of their bodies. “Save that much of yourself for your precious Wen Ning and his, Mo Xuanyu.”

“It’s not like you’ve not seen it before!”

“Yes and I wished I hadn’t, we are best friends not friends with benefits and no A-Sang that isn’t an invitation. Now go to your lingerie store and let me shop in peace at the bookstore.” Jiang Cheng stated, shrugging off Wei Wuxian’s arm. The two of them sputtered before ultimately leaving him to go ahead to check out the store alone.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The moment he stepped through the door there was a soft chime to let the workers know that someone had entered the store. He was surprised to find that the store didn’t have a heavy book smell but one of tea and the flowers growing inside. And that wasn’t the only thing growing inside. His sight went to the large tree in the center of the store. It wasn’t a fake one but a real living tree with a plexiglass enclosure. He hadn’t understood why till he got closer to find that there were bunnies of different shades that hung out with the tree and their toys.

Cute . He thought again. It made him wonder just what the twin jades were like for having a bookstore like this. He stood there for a few moments longer before heading to look for some books that he’d been wanting to read and review for his youtube channel. His first instinct was to go to thrillers and suspense to look for her but couldn’t find any of the books.

There was a jingling of bracelets that caught his attention. There to his right, amongst the stacks, was possibly the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He was dressed simply with a long white button down shirt and skinny jeans beneath a pale blue apron. His long obviously dyed silver hair was in a high ponytail exposing his long neck. The earrings he wore were dainty and a delicate silver chandelier style that accentuated it. His white button down had the sleeves rolled up exposing his wrists. On the right hand was the jade bracelet with the matching silver bangles that caused him to look.

Oh, who are you . Jiang Cheng thought. Though he was sure because of the jade bracelet meant he was one of the jades.

He must have felt his gaze because suddenly a set of golden brown eyes met his. Then came the most attractive smile that made butterflies of desire flutter in his gut. Then he’d spoken to him in that soft, smooth timbered voice.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t hear you come in. Do you need help finding anything?” The man asked, putting the book that'd been in the crook of his other arm on the shelf in front of him.

“Yes, I am looking for the Cut and Run series. I went over to thrillers but it wasn’t there?” Jiang Cheng answered, making his own voice softer.

“Oh! That’s because it’s also a romance series. It’s more focused on the murders at the beginning but when the lead’s relationship develops you see more of the romance.” the taller man reasoned “I can take you to them if you like.”

“Yes, please.’ Jiang Cheng answered, following the man to where the books were sitting on a display at the other end of the aisle.

“Here they are and a good choice. I’ve even heard that they might turn her series into a drama.” the man cheerfully added, “But if you like Cut and Run then you’re going to lover her book, Gravedigger’s Brawl. It is such a good one.” His elegant hand running over the cover of said book. “Especially if you’re into the gothic romance.”

“I am. So I’ll take this one too while I am at it.” Jiang Cheng stated, lifting a copy of that book too.

“You won’t be disappointed. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No thank you, Lan Xichen.” Jiang Cheng answered, gaze dropping down to the man’s apron where his name was hand stitched into the top right corner. His grin widened at seeing the man become puzzled for a moment then realized his name was on his apron.

“Oh, right. I can check you out if you want.” Lan Xichen offered, holding his hands out for the books to which Jiang Cheng gladly handed him the books. Together they made their way over to the register. Where Lan Xichen rang him up. Instead of paying for it in cash, he wanted the beautiful man to know his name since he hadn’t asked for it. That didn’t bother him at all though. It appeared the other was shy. There was nothing wrong with being reserved.  So he’d handed him his card. Lan Xichen didn’t disappoint him in checking his name on it. It only made those butterflies he’d been feeling swarm.

“Hav-ve a nice day Jiang Wanyin.” Lan Xichen stammered a little in his goodbye as he handed him his paper bag of books. A lovely blush blooming on his cheeks.

“You too, Lan Xichen. ” Jiang Cheng responded, taking his leave. An old ache in his chest and a burn in his gut kept that smile on his face the rest of the day. It’d been too long since he felt like this. See, finding someone that he could instantaneously connect with like that was rare. He just needed to be sure that Lan Xichen was the right fit for his heart. He didn’t want to get hurt again. So he’d do his research. It wasn’t hard to find out about someone in this technological world. follow the series for the event

#XichengClipse #Xicheng #Sangyu #WeiNing #First Meetings #Strangers #mentions of beginning of online stalking #fluff

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Roman x His Mystery Boyfriend, Romantic Andy x Pryce, Intrulogical (Remus x Logan)

Word Count: 1,878 Words

Summary: Snakes, Deceit in the hospital yet again, and Roman being touch starved as usual.

Warnings: Sex Mentions, Cursing, Snake Mention, Cancer Mention, Sick Character, Immunocompromised Character, Food Mention, Death Mention, Touch Starved Character, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Note: Bolded and blockquoted are actions in their chatroom, not a message.

Usernames, a quick translation guide: Andy: Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero), Castor: schrodingersdumbass, Dayd: carniverousroomba, Dice: Dr. Bitch, Emile: Thera-pissed, Halley: aspermylastemail, Janus: SnekBoi, Logan: Momgan, October: eatpavementido, Orion: birdgeoisie, Patton: Papa Bear, Pollux: satantakemehome, Pryce: SwEeTvErUcA, Remus: Octopussy, Remy: Coffee Bandit, Roman: waaahluigi, Sirius: literalsunshine, Teal: uwu, Thomas: shrexy, Virgil: spipples, Vita: þiccness

A Very Sanders Group Chat: Chapter 8

1:17PM

SnekBoi: Inny, did you feed my snakes?

Octopussy: I did.

SnekBoi: Oh good, I was worried about Ceres. She's only taken her food from me before.

shrexy: Ceres?

Octopussy: baby Burmese Python Dee just got.

SnekBoi: And I have more snakes that will be laying soon.

Thera-pissed has kicked SnekBoi from the chat

Thera-pissed: Seriously, Inny, is he okay? He looks really pale.

Octopussy: well, he's in observation so, obviously, no. he's pretty much running himself down again. he said he plans to reopen his studio again on the fourteenth against me and Dice's medical advice. he's currently digging his hole and he's going to have to work his way out of it when he finally crashes again.

Thera-pissed: Well, how deep in the hole is he?

Dr. Bitch: Currently, he's at least twenty pounds underweight even though he's eating like he should, he's just burning it off by straining himself so much. He had at least two nosebleeds while he was hospitalized last night so it's inevitable that he'll have to do the induction again because it's just not working.

Octopussy: plus, this morning he couldn't open a tupperware I brought him, so I'd say he's pretty much back at the beginning again.

Dr. Bitch: You didn't tell me that you brought him extra food.

Octopussy: he said he'd tell you.

Dr. Bitch: So he's lying between us now.

Octopussy: maybe trying to make himself stronger by lying to people he's connected to emotionally?

Dr. Bitch: Maybe.

Octopussy: if he gets any better, maybe that's the point of his lying right now but just keep eyes on him so his lying can't backfire on him.

Dr. Bitch: I always have a nurse near his room. He's too dangerous left alone for too long.

Octopussy: I have to get back to work, Alice came in with Hannah and Hannah needs her fur de-matted again and if I make Riley deal with her for too long, he'll scream in the break room later.

Dr. Bitch: I wish you could just take the animal from the owners that don't care about them.

Octopussy: I'm not getting fired to rescue dogs, Dicey.

Octopussy: plus you have that kitten now, you can't take care of a month and a half old kitten, a dog, and your job.

Dr. Bitch: You're right and I hate you.

Octopussy: don't lie, bitch, you love me.

Dr. Bitch: Irrelevant.

Octopussy: anyway, work.

Dr. Bitch has deleted 12 messages

Dr. Bitch has added SnekBoi to the chatroom

SnekBoi: You booted me to talk about animals?

Dr. Bitch: No, we were talking about our Christmas present ideas for you and ended up talking about animals.

SnekBoi: Fine.

SnekBoi: Also, you're across the hall at the nurse's station talking to Miss Esme, I can literally see you, Dice, you could just say that to my face.

Dr. Bitch: And yet you just texted me back instead of calling over to me.

SnekBoi: Touche.

SnekBoi: Anyway, back to looking at snakes.

shrexy: Oh yeah, Dee, you breed snakes?

SnekBoi: Well, it started out an accident, actually. Me and Inny moved our rooms around last year after brumation and we put a few of my snakes that could be temporarily cohabed in bins together for a few days so we could do it and quite a number of the snakes got gravid. Roman owns a couple of the amazon tree boas, actually.

SnekBoi: This year we got a new adult garter thinking it was a boy and we only found out it was a girl when we saw Inny's garter snake locked with her and, by then she had already mated so we're just waiting now. Plus we actually decided to see what happens with our sunbeams, only because we want to at least try with them to get babies since it's so hard to get them not wild-caught.

waaahluigi: Livia and Caius are very happy by the way.

shrexy: I now want a snake.

SnekBoi: You really want me and Inny to vet you?

shrexy: Sure?

SnekBoi: Dice, can I have visitors?

Dr. Bitch: I have said this like four times each time you're in here. Only if they wear a mask and so do you.

SnekBoi: Fine. Thomas, come here and wear a mask.

shrexy: Why?

SnekBoi: Because I'm going to vet you first while Inny's working to get it out of the way and I can't leave the hospital for another six days so get in here.

shrexy: I guess I'm going in my head again.

2:40PM

SnekBoi: Trial number one is over. He passed.

waaahluigi: How!? It took me like three tries!

SnekBoi: He knows a lot about snakes, what can I say?

Momgan: Can confirm, Thomas knows quite a bit about snakes since he wanted learn if your scales were indeed slimy and he happened to fall down a rabbit hole and got extremely interested in them.

shrexy: Stop exposing my late-night rabbit hole knowledge to others, Logan.

Momgan: We all live in your head, it literally does not matter.

SnekBoi: Second trial; Inny. Someone you don't even know. Good luck.

shrexy: Yeah, I'm making him trial three, I'm buying snake stuff for trial two.

SnekBoi: Using the stuff I recommended or something else?

shrexy: Stuff you recommended.

SnekBoi: Smart man.

4:30PM

Octopussy: hey, Dee, I went home for lunch and guess what happened?

SnekBoi: No way. Baby garters? Did Venus have babies?

Octopussy: nope, neither. you remember how how we left Juno and Jupiter together earlier this year because we ran out of separators while we had to shift them from their quarantine bins to their enclosures?

SnekBoi: Tell me they didn't.

Octopussy: I think Juno's newly laid litter means they did.

SnekBoi: Well, it looks like unfortunately have baby rainbow boas.

spipples: I want one.

SnekBoi: You really want a snake? You've told us for years you didn't want to own them.

spipples: I was thinking of looking for a cute little noodle and Juno and Jupiter are just plain beautiful so their babies have to be pretty too.

SnekBoi: Reasonable, rainbow boas are pretty as hell.

Octopussy: do you even have an enclosure for a baby rainbow boa?

spipples: I already have an extra 20 gallon enclosure from getting Celeste. I got the wrong one. It was too small for Celeste so I ended up having a spare 20 gallon.

SnekBoi: Amazing, this one is the first one to already have both an enclosure and past snake experience with our babies.

spipples: Oh yeah, I've fed Minerva before.

SnekBoi: Do we even need to continue vetting him?

Octopussy: I still will, this is the first time Juno's had babies and I'm still counting.

SnekBoi: Jeez, how many are you at?

Octopussy: well, I'm doing it alone and I'm searching Juno's enclosure so I'm not even counting yet, I'm still cleaning. it has to be at least seven though.

SnekBoi: Good lord, Juno.

Octopussy: Juno cares not for your so called "lord", she will make any number of squirmy children she wants. and apparently that number was a lot. I'm already above ten.

SnekBoi: I believe it.

Octopussy: just look how pretty this bucket of large rainbowey worms are.

Octopussy: abakersdozenofrainbowboas.jpg

spipples: Wow, they're beautiful.

shrexy: Oh wow, they're so pretty!

waaahluigi: I would kill for them.

Coffee Bandit: I think they look very squirmy and cute. A+ work right there, Juno.

SnekBoi: Oh yeah, Virgil. Time for vetting. Come see me.

spipples: Wish me luck not to die.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Don't die, I'm not qualified to raise my nephews and niece.

spipples: Fair.

7:45PM

SnekBoi: I'm exhausted. I'm going to sleep again. Live on without me, you feeble simpletons.

spipples: Yeah sure, jackass.

SnekBoi: Love you too, bastard.

spipples: Fair.

SnekBoi is offline

spipples: Hey, Inny, can we talk alone?

Octopussy: Nu-uh. I just got home and I'll be incriminated. Witness.

spipples: Fine, Andy, come with me.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Fiiiiiiine.

spipples, Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero), and Octopussy are now offline

shrexy: Should I be worried about them.

Dr. Bitch: Virgil seemed extremely worried about Deceit, which is seeable given Dee has declined in health quite a bit lately with his recurrence and he's not quite getting much better as of yet given he's stressing himself out more than he's helping himself get better.

shrexy: Isn't there a way to make him stop that?

Dr. Bitch: We're fortunately unfortunate that he's stubborn. His stubbornness has served well going through things like induction and maintenance but he's absolutely shit at consolidation.

shrexy: Do you think he'll be okay? He's just getting worse.

Dr. Bitch. Like I do with all my patients, I hope he'll get better but, right now, it doesn't seem like he will be unless something changes and he finally stops being so self-destructive.

shrexy: So, no?

Dr. Bitch: I don't think he will, but I don't think he'll die and he knows that. he's a part of you, he can't die, he'll just be in a lot of pain for a very long time and will likely go dormant.

shrexy: It's a relief he won't die but I don't want him to be in pain.

Dr. Bitch: Well, we don't really have a choice. We have the option of I either do my best and get him into remission again and hope it doesn't come back again or I give up on my favorite patient and let him drive himself into the ground again. And you have the option of living with him or rejecting him.

shrexy: I know.

Dr. Bitch: Now I need to work, I get to go home soon.

shrexy: Good luck, Dice!

Dr. Bitch: Yeah, yeah.

Dr. Bitch is offline

Momgan: I'm not surprised that I worked and this chat, yet again, is chaos.

Papa Bear: Yeah, it usually is chaotic while we aren't here, huh Lo?

Momgan: It is. Sometimes I'm shocked any of them have a single braincell between them.

Papa Bear: You're right! Our beloved braincell is at work, so they lose their minds.

waaahluigi: I resent that!

Momgan: We know you're chaotic because you miss us, Roman.

waaahluigi: No! I just get...

waaahluigi: ...bored stupid.

Momgan: Would you like to hug, Roman?

waaahluigi: Wait, you're offering to hug me? You? The robot?

Momgan: Well, given I am designated the group mother, I may as well give you motherly affection.

waaahluigi: I would kill to hug someone.

Momgan: Roman, are you touch starved?

waaahluigi: No! Of course not! I just like attention!

þiccness: He is. Mom refuses to admit it but he is touch starved quite frequently.

Momgan: I guess I'm staying with you then until you have had an adequate amount of touch.

waaahluigi: Hang on, gonna cry real quick because Lo's being so nice to me.

shrexy: Aw, bud! Cuddle pile on Roman time!

SwEeTvErUcA: You mean flop on my brother like he's a pancake and I'm butter? Great idea!

waaahluigi: Wait nonono!

uwu: Hey what was that bang?

waaahluigi: Ow.

uwu: Ah, two touch starved triplets. Makes sense. Carry on.

Momgan: Oh no, you're getting in on this too, Teal.

uwu: What god did I offend to be taken from doing my work like this?

Momgan: All of them.

uwu: Sounds about right, deal.

Taglist: @glaxyjellyfish @chronophobica @fear-ze-queer @imma-potatoo

#sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #immunocompromised deceit #immunocompromised janus #touch starved roman #deceit sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #emile picani #dice sanders #critic sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #andy sanders #patton sanders #pryce sanders #teal sanders #snoweywrites #a very sanders group chat #tw sex mention #tw cursing #tw snake mention #tw cancer mention #tw food mention #tw death mention #touch starved

[m4delin]

Dreams across worlds - pt 2

Part 1 here

Roman’s side of the story. Warning for a bit of bad language

@sophiexteresa you wanted to get tagged!

----------

Roman felt his nails dig into the palm on his hands and he grit his teeth, it was all he could do to not snap back at his father.

“Roman, please. Enough of this nonsense,” the king said with a tired voice. At the moment, he looked much older than he was. Probably because they’ve had this very argument so many times by now.

“It’s not nonsens!” Roman hissed as he threw out his arms in a wide motion. “ I know that we’re meant to be together! Why else would I dream of him?”

The king clasped his hands together and bit back a frustrated yell. “The seers have already tried to look into your dreams to locate this man. Several times. And each time they’ve failed. He doesn’t exist, Roman. You need to focus on the duties you have, not chasing a silly dream!”

“I do do them! Why is it so wrong of me to look for my apparent soulmate as well?”

“Because soulmates don't exist!”

The yell seemed to echo the words in the small room, yet silence laid heavy on them.

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Roman lowered his head to hide the tears gathering in his eyes.

He didn’t move when a chair creaked and the king sighed.

“I’m sorry, Roman, but this pointless chase after someone who doesn’t exist-”

“You just don’t want to lose face in front of the other kings!” Roman snapped and when he gave the king a glare, he could see his father’s face a bit paler. “You don’t want a son who talks about things that shouldn’t exist! A son who dreams beyond dreams! You just-” Roman choked on the words and took a deep breath- “don’t want to be perceived as crazy.”

With that Roman sharply turned around and stormed out of the room.

The servants and the guards made sure to be out of his way as he ran past them. He must’ve passed his mother as he could hear her shout after him, but he didn’t care and he didn’t stop until he had reached his room.

The door had barely been slammed shut and the lock making sure no one else would enter before Roman collapsed onto his bed and screamed into his pillow. Yes, it was very un-princely of him to act like this and he was certainly not acting like the adult he supposed he was. But he didn’t care and let out another frustrated scream before throwing the too soft pillow across the room. He didn’t watch it land as he collapsed face first into the silk sheet, planning not to move for the rest of the day and simply sulk over yet another argument with his father.

Apparently ‘rest of the day’ meant only a few minutes, as the lock on the door made a soft ‘click’ as it was unlocked and two pairs of footsteps walked in.

“Get out,” Roman said, his voice muffled by the sheets and the mattress.

“Nope!” Remus said, popping the p, and walked over to Roman’s bed only to plop down on it beside his twin.

“Did you even take a bath before you came in?” Roman grumbled despite already knowing the answer, he could smell the sweat coming from Remus, and moved his arms to prop up his head. “And can’t you stop breaking into my room?” He added when he spotted Janus a couple of feet away.

“I simply asked the lock if it would let us in, it opened by itself,” Janus said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Stupid magic locks and their favoriasing of magicians,” Roman grumbled and hid his face in his arms.

“You know,” Remus began and poked Roman in the arm, “dad’s just a dick. He’s worried that none of the other princes will accept marrying you.”

Roman made a weak attempt to shuffle away from the intruding finger but didn’t care enough to swat the offending hand away. Nor did he bother to look up when the bed dipped when a third person sat down on it.

“Well, he can fuck off,” Roman grumbled.

Janus huffed. “So, what was the dream about this time?”

Roman stilled as the memory of the most recent dream came to his mind and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah! You and dad always snaps at each other when you have one of those! Did you snog him up? Oh! I know!” Remus quickly sat up and clapped his hands. “You finally decided to fuck!”

Roman’s face became flushed at that thought and kicked his brother off the bed. “Remus!”

“Alright, no fucking this time,” Remus said while snickering, only sitting up from his sprawled position on the floor.

Janus sighed and reached over to pat Roman on his back. “There, there. Someday you will get him into bed, even if it wasn’t this night.”

Letting out a groan, Roman tried to burrow his face even more into his arms. “Not you too.”

The bed bounced a bit as Remus joined them up there again. “Come on! Tell us!”

After contemplating if he should kick them out and tell the lock to not let them in again he sighed and rolled to the side so he could see his brother and friend. His head rested on one of his arms and the other hand tapped the sheet beneath him. “He picked me up with that weird cart of his and drove us to this house with a lot of other people in it. There was that music filling the building but it wasn’t loud by any means, it was dim but held enough light to not be bothersome.” Roman let out a breath and smiled.

“There was this enclosure where people were going round and round on these- these-!” Roman sat up and motioned wildly with his hands. “It was shoes, but they had wheels on them! Tiny wheels that made them go round and round without much effort! And there was no magic involved! So he- he-!” He flapped his hands as he grinned big.

“Hold on, wheels on shoes? How would that work?” Janus said with a frown as he pulled off a glove and started to draw in the air. Roman paused in the middle of a motion with his hands to stare at the yellow land following Janus’ finger. Soon enough was a crude drawing of a shoe with too big wheels on the sides flying in the air.

“Ooh! That looks like something I’m gonna try and make!” Remus said with a whistle as he leaned close to Janus to get a good look on the drawing.

“Well,” Roman said and lowered his hands to his lap, “the wheels were under the shoe and way smaller than that. I’ll try and draw it up later.”

Janus simply nodded and waved the hand to make the drawing disappear before pulling on the glove again.

Remus was grinning. “Can’t wait! Now, go on!”

“So, he gave me a pair of these rolling shoes before putting on his own and helped me to get to the enclosure,” Roman said and his hands immediately began to make shapes in the air again. “And by the gods, it was awful! I couldn’t even stand on those things! My legs would just slide different ways under me. He had the audacity to laugh at me as I tried to stand on those nightmare things, and when I finally did, he encouraged me to try and move forward. I was like a newborn foal on ice!” Despite the supposed nightmare it was, Roman couldn’t stop smiling.

Remus grinned and Janus had a small smile on his lips as they listened to Roman speak.

“When I couldn’t get moving fast enough for him, he grabbed my hand and started to pull me along the enclosure. Round and round we went and-” a dreamy sigh left him- “it was perfect. He held me close and gosh, I can still feel the warmth of his arm on my back as he held me steady. And when I had enough, he took a few laps by himself. You should’ve seen him! It was like he was born on those shoes!”

“You sound utterly smitten,” Janus said and Roman rolled his eyes.

Remus huffed. “Come with some news, dragonling!”

Janus flicked Remus’ nose, making him go cross eyed. “So, how does the date end?” He asked as Remus was busy rubbing his nose.

Roman’s shoulders sagged and he sighed. “We went out to get dinner and around there I woke up, as usual.” The fact that he was disappointed about that was clear as a day.

“Sounds like you had an absolute horrible day,” Janus hummed.

Rolling his eyes, Roman gave Janus a small smile. “Yeah, absolutely terrible.”

“That world sounds fun,” Remus said and flopped down in the bed again.

“I know,” Roman said with a sigh and laid down too. “Would give anything to live ther- mpfrh!” Roman spluttered as a hat was shoved in his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not say that. Those are dangerous words,” Janus said with a scolding voice.

After removing the hat from his face, Roman gave Janus a glare. “Yeah yeah, because you never know what kind of creature is listening,” he said in a mocking voice before he sighed. “I’m just tired of dad being such a stick in the ass about it all.

“Weeeell,” Remus said and both Roman and Janus looked at him, “I know what will cheer you up!”

Roman grinned while Janus groaned.

“Mudslide?”

“Mudslide!”

#prinxiety #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #creativitytwins #sanders sides #m4ds writing #drabble

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x Reader) Chapter 3

Summary: Day 2 of the trial, a Sunday where Jack is allowed to choose his own adventure with Sebastian along for the ride.

AN: I hope you are all taking care of yourselves <3 and that tomorrow is kind to you.

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad

Chapter 2 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 4

“Morning, Jack,” Sebastian greeted the soporific Jack Hotchner as he entered the kitchen. Jack mumbled back and climbed into his place at the table. Sebastian set the place, poured his cereal, got his juice out as well, before joining him in breakfast.

They ate in quietude, that is until Sebastian’s phone buzzed with a text.

Once he’d read it, he held the phone out to Jack across the table, “Hey, do you wanna talk to your Dad? He’s free to call you quick if you want.”

A bolt of energy shot through Jack and he clutched the phone tightly.

There was Sebastian’s watchful eye remaining on Jack while he was clearing up the dirty dishes. Jack knuckled one of his eyes every now and again, but there was no doubt that he was beyond excited to speak to Hotch. His legs swung under the table.

“I love you, Daddy,” Jack said before he passed the phone back over, but Hotch had already hung up. Pocketing it, Sebastian finished up his breakfast with Jack officially cheered up – for now at least.

“I was thinking we could go out somewhere, treat ourselves.”

“The zoo!” Jack crowed immediately

“The zoo?”

“I haven’t been for ages and ages!”

“Well, I shall see if that’s possible while you go brush your teeth.”

Completely unplanned, Jack was dressed in a green polo that matched Sebastian’s shirt. Not the pattern but they were the exact same shade.

“My mum used to dress me and my sister up in similar outfits when we were kids,” Sebastian said as he was tying up his laces.

“Sometimes, Henry and me wear the same things,” Jack replied, double knotting his shoes up. A wise move.

“Who’s Henry?”

“My friend, his Mommy works with Daddy.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

The drive over had a much more confident sing-a-long. Sebastian played the same CD (but just the songs that Jack liked) and Jack was starting to pick up on some of the lyrics. Or at least what they sounded like. He was currently favouring that of Sara Bareilles. So much so that, after they circled the car park of the zoo and found a space, they finished the song before turning the engine off

As they were lining up to buy the tickets, Sebastian bent over and whispered to Jack, “I know you’d much rather have your dad here instead of me.”

“I don’t mind you,” was the reply, and a shrug to boot.

“I don’t mind you either, kid.”

And the second they entered the park, map in hand, Jack was grabbing at Sebastian, pulling him along, “Come on, I wanna see the elephants!”

The pair did pause to glance in the direction of the other animals, give them their moment of glory. But their focus and their hearts were set on finding the biggest land mammal, past the bug house and the birds, along to where the wider paddocks were situated.

Across a wooden bridge, they finally landed at the edge of a wooden barrier, about five feet from a ha-ha wall that wrapped around the elephants’ land. Jack stood on his tiptoes, his chin on the wooden slat.

Already knowing the answer to his questions, Sebastian said, “Can you see alright? Or do you wanna go on my shoulders?”

Jack fidgeted, scuffing his shoes on the dirt path, “Yes please.”

And he raised his arms over his head. Sebastian ducked down and lifted Jack over his head with some difficulty. He didn’t tell Jack that though.

“Now, don’t go farting on me, young man,” He patted Jack’s leg.

“Thank you, Seb.”

From his elevated position, Jack cheered up. He made sure not to hit Sebastian when his legs stretched out in excitement at the baby elephant trotting about the enclosure. He waved to the baby elephant who waved their trunk clumsily back at the crowds, eliciting a series of “awws”.

“Baby elephants stay with their mothers for their whole life,” Sebastian read off the plaque, “And these ones are from India. That’s where my mum’s from!”

“Is that why you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“All funny,” and Jack flapped his hand about.

“Nah, that’s my dad’s fault. From the exotic land of Bolton.”

“Is there any animals from there here?”

“Probably not, bud.”

“That one’s the Mommy,” Jack pointed out the elephant the wee baby was now showing off to. He laughed loudly when another baby elephant submerged its whole head into the artificial watering hole for a drink, “It’s still learning!”

A gentle meander took them all the way back to the café, once again ignoring the other animals. They were thinking with their stomach.

Upon arriving at their destination, Jack went for the classic fish, chips, and peas. Sebastian had made a New Year’s resolution to not order something just to get the chips on the side, so he went for the lasagne and broccoli.

“I used to call them ‘baby trees’, made me feel like a giant.”

“What about peas?” Jack scooped several of the vegetable up onto his fork.

“They’re boulders, the kind that roll all the way down mashed potato mountains.”

“I don’t have any mashed potatoes though.”

“Maybe next time. Eat your boulders.”

Third time lucky, the other animals were given Jack’s attention. His second favourite after the elephants? The meerkats. There was a bubble at the centre with a tunnel underneath the desert-like paddock that he could go into and poke his head up. He waved and shouted (albeit muffled by the thick glass) at Sebastian, who waved back and took some photos. Back around by Sebastian’s side of the wall, Jack would hold the meerkats’ attention with a clementine segment pinched in his finger and lure them around the wall’s edge. Then he would eat the fruit.

Sebastian preferred the otters, slipping and sliding down the stream. His laugh trilled with the kids that watched the otters cawing at each other. Chattering between their little whines, they wriggled around in the pool.

Just as Jack was adding to his birthday list every other item in the gift shop. Sebastian’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

About to fly back to Virginia, will be in around nine.

All good our end, hope it’s good with yours too

And Sebastian sent his reply with the photo of Jack hypnotising the meerkats with the promise of citrus fruit.

Jack was very clearly worn out from the day but still had enough energy to tap his toes along during the drive back. The news that Hotch would be home that evening was what got Jack through until dinner time. Sat on the countertop, he watched TV placidly, while Sebastian got on with the tuna pasta. He did get to pour the sweetcorn in, a proper little chef.

“Thoughts?” Sebastian asked when Jack chewed through half his plate, apparently without breathing.

“It’s nice,” Jack said, his mouth half full, “I like the chips.”

The crushed salted crisps sprinkled on top were just a bonus that Sebastian’s dad had introduced to the world. His best invention by far, besides his two kids of course. And Jack ate it all up with gusto.

As the dishwasher was being loaded, out of nowhere, the front door unlocked and not even halfway open before Jack was up on his feet and shouting, “Daddy!”

He sprinted full force and was caught in his father’s arms just as Hotch stepped into the flat. Hotch, despite seeming very worn out, cradled his son like he was a newborn.

“Hey buddy,” He whispered into Jack’s hair, “How have you been?”

Jack’s reply was muffled in his suit jacket, “Good!”

“How was your time with Sebastian?”

“We went to the zoo!”

Sebastian caught Hotch’s gaze over Jack’s shoulder, and immediately Sebastian busied himself with clearing the table, “Lucky you caught him on his way to bed.”

“Come on,” Hotch patted Jack’s back, “Let’s get you off to sleep.”

He carried Jack off to his bedroom, leaving his briefcase at the door. Sebastian watched them go with a half-smile. One that disappeared when it turned to the chores at hand.

First things first, he placed Hotch’s dinner onto a plate and placed it in the oven, still warm from the initial cooking. Of course, he didn’t put the salad in the oven. He wasn’t an idiot. Then it was putting the leftovers in the fridge, scrubbing at the dishes and cutlery, cleaning down the table, sweeping up the stuff. Somehow he was always more productive when the repercussions were next to instantaneous.

“Did Jack go down OK?” Sebastian asked once Hotch had returned to the kitchen.

“Yes, he’s quite worn out from your trip.”

“How was the case?”

The question was offered with a levity that Hotch understood as merely checking in, not an attempt to mine the grisly details from his mind. That much was clear when Hotch set his gun down on the table and Sebastian tensed before moving around and away from it. Hotch then picked it back up and deposited it in a drawer.

“It was fine, glad it was over quick. Is that my dinner?” Hotch opened the oven, standing clear of the hot air that escaped from it.

Nodding, Sebastian passed the dying up cloth between his two hands, “Yeah, plus salad, crisps – sorry, ‘chips’ - for the top.” He corrected himself only because Hotch’s eyebrows knitted at his choice of words.

“You put chips on top of your pasta?” He said slowly.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Looking unconvinced, Hotch closed the oven again, “How did you find your time with Jack?”

“He’s a good kid, we had fun today. Plus, he didn’t kick up a fuss eating his five-a-day which is a bonus,” Sebastian twisted the dish cloth around, “You’ve done a good job raising him.”

Hotch nodded with what Sebastian was saying, and while his face stayed neutral, his eyes held a glint.

“Then you wouldn’t have any objections to becoming his nanny full time, would you?”

Offer sank in and Sebastian’s face broke out into a toothy grin, “Yeah? Even with the crisp-chips?”

Hotch’s shoulders dropped about half an inch of tension, “Do you have your documents with you? We can get the paperwork done tonight.”

A little undainty on his feet, Sebastian went to his room and grabbed his folder of his important paperwork that was still in his unpacked suitcase. He tried to keep his clothes neat now that they were out on the carpet.

“Can I get you a drink?” Hotch asked, already pouring himself a scotch. He had served his dinner while Sebastian was out of the room. He’d even sprinkled a few chips on top like Sebastian had suggested.

“I’m good with water, thanks,” and Sebastian sat opposite Hotch’s place at the table.

“You don’t mind if I eat while we do this? I haven’t since lunch time.”

“Go ahead.”

Sebastian waited until he was a few forkfuls into his meal before speaking again, “Thoughts on the chips?”

He had to severely mute his reaction as he watched the corner of Hotch’s mouth quirk up and stay there, “Surprisingly good.”

With glee, Sebastian snapped his fingers, “Success!”

Once settled, Hotch and Sebastian discussed fees, records, emergency contacts. A copy of the background check Hotch had already completed sat atop the contract. Hotch let Sebastian read through to his leisure while he polished off his dinner. By the time his plate was cleared, Sebastian’s signature had been scribbled alongside Hotch’s on the few dotted lines that concluded the sheets of paper.

“You’re officially hired,” Hotch slid a pair of newly cut keys across the table. When Sebastian pocketed them, he held up his tumbler.

“To having a job,” Sebastian clinked his glass against Hotch’s and took a sip, “Thank you. Forgot to send you this yesterday by the way.”

And he sent the photos off to Hotch’s number. Not a moment later, Hotch’s phone beeped and he picked it up, his thumb swiping over the photos. To fill the quiet, Sebastian asked, “Do you have a preference on what I can send you and when while you’re away? I don’t wanna bother you too much while you’re working.” His rambling faded as he watched Hotch’s face soften.

“Send me photos whenever you can.” Hotch’s voice had melted too, warming Sebastian’s already soporific heart.

Sebastian stifled a yawn before swallowing, “And I think that’s the end of my day approaching. Goodnight, Aaron.”

“One more thing,” Hotch slipped his phone into his breast pocket, “Why did you move over here, Sebastian?”

“I had a pen pal over here, we met on holiday when we were kids, and I wanted to move away from home. So I got a Visa and moved in with her.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Satisfied, Hotch began to clear up his plate, “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Sebastian went to say goodnight but, remembering he’d already said that, he just left for his bedroom.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #my writing #wc: 2k+ #r: male #series #goodnight aaron