#bastardswxrd

Eyes wide with fear, throat so tight it hurt, Klaus slammed his full weight against the door, desperate to get out.     

“Sean! Sean, damnit! Let me out!” Any anger that might have been in his tone was entirely overshadowed by fear. The walls seemed to press in around him and he shook from head to toe, fighting to open the door.

          “Klaus, Klaus...” Sean lifted his voice over his brother’s shouts. He could see him clearly through the door’s little six-by-nine window, the only window in the entire room. His hand fogged the glass as he touched it in a mock gesture of comfort. “Shhh, shhhh... Relax, okay? Just relax.”

"I'm from the future~" Klaus wriggled his fingers, making sound effects. - @bastardswxrd​

          “Unhh-huh...” Oh boy, Randall, you got yourself a real wild one. “And I’m President Grant.”

          Josh shook his head. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of this boy. This boy with the wild look in his eyes, the one who wore heavier eye-make up than any woman he’d seen,

                          ( the one who spoke of ghosts and cried out in the dead of night )

           but Josh was fond of him. In his own way, Klaus was a charming young man, full of life and promise. Yet there were many times when he wondered just how disturbed the fellow was.

Adrian carefully tiptoed up to the familiar back side of someone, eventually keeping up with his pace as if he’d always been there.

@bastardswxrd | meme | accepting

     “ you really should be more careful, serjo. ”

     honestly, it was a miracle bezi wasn’t even worse off. that many reavers at once was a death sentence for anyone who wasn’t used to being outnumbered. still, ralis shakes his head and grabs a washrag from nearby, dipping it into the pail of water at his side.

@bastardswxrd​:

Bezi’s eyebrows raised as he looked up from the book he was reading.          “As forward as ever, huh?” He leaned back, eyes dancing with a smile he kept hidden. “… What will you do for one?”

          What kind of question was that to ask a desperate man? Nathan hadn’t had a shag days, he was no closer to being able to achieve the flexibility to giving himself a blowjob, and taking care of it by the usual means was becoming awfully dull. Stamina-shmamina. He couldn’t see how this was supposed to help him last longer. If anything, it made him feel even less patient.

          Still, just because he wasn’t sure how he felt about Bezi’s snark, Nathan feigned an indecisive eyeroll. 

     “ Should have known you’d bring me heartache... ”

          Charlotte didn’t like the attic. At least, that was what Patrick assumed.

          Not that he believed in ghosts, of course. He wasn’t so desperate or easily fooled as that. As much as he wished that his daughter was still alive, she wasn’t, and she couldn’t care less about the CBI attic or what Patrick kept there. But his memory of her did, and his subconscious mind was key.

          “...Why can’t I make you come back...?” Patrick wondered aloud, sat cross-legged on his couch. It was nearly 3AM, the graveyard shift, and the serious crimes unit was dead silent. Even Grace who frequently pulled long hours to allow herself time in the field had gone home.

          He was alone, and free to sink into reverie, and sip at his vices in peace.

          A sweet floral aroma warmed the bullpen, flowing up from the filled teacup in Patrick’s hand. It must be his second cup--carefully measured--that night, and yet all he had succeeded in doing was making himself drowsy. There was the fluttering pulse, too, which he tried to ignore. It had happened once or twice before, and he found the more he focused on that, the less he could focus on thinking.