#there's something to be said for mediocrity

[philosophicalparadox]

Also to add: sometimes questions don’t get addressed. Or other parts of a conversation just naturally turn away from where they started to the point it’s too awkward to bring it back up, or there’s just no need to respond to it.

This is especially true of what I call “mediocre” (in the archaic sense of “average quality” ) questions, I.e. “do you remember how you got here?” To a patient in a hospital. Does the answer have meaning? Yes, in the right scene. But not every scene needs to focus on that, though literally any nurse is going to ask if you are unconscious upon arrival, or even if you faint while there. They also don’t particularly care about the answer, as long as you’re not obviously in distress about it.

Similarly, “are you okay?” Asked to a person who is obviously hurt or struggling needs no answer, as such; I certainly don’t tend to answer that question conventionally when the answer is itself obvious. Can it be answered, with meaning? Yes. Does it NEED an answer to feel realistic? No.

“How are you feeling?” I think can fall into this category too.

However these are different from the “flock call” questions, as I call them — the “I’m human, are you human? Oh you are!” Game, which is all social script, I.e. “how are you?” -> “I’m fine”. “How was school?” -> “it was good” etc. these are dictated by social expectations, not legitimate answers, so I don’t even really consider them questions tbh. Nonetheless, it can feel dreadfully awkward to answer those in the expected way sometimes, and for ND people in particular, we tend to have our own little way of answering those. So as a character building aspect of dialogue, they’re valuable.

Also — that body language point!!!!!! Body language IS A LANGUAGE. Entire conversations can be had with no words spoken at all, especially between people who know each other well or in intense confrontations.

And that carries into dialogue as well — sometimes what’s being said with words is Not what’s being said with body language, and that can really make a scene feel both dynamic and real!

The number of times I’ve seen my fiancé, for example, having a “pleasant” conversation with his uncle or mom, and unless you knew how to read his body language, you’d never assume by dialogue alone that he was being closed off or defensive. But nearly every time they have any kind of long talk, regardless of topic, he always crosses his arms, and leans backward, and stands up if he can, if he’s not already, and will, if they follow suit, put something between himself and them. He is the veritable picture of “please don’t talk to me” , buuuuuuut we live in a house of people who can’t read into that to save themselves, except ironically for lil old autistic me, because I had to learn that body language unintuitively lol. However, it’s a great example of that subtextual information being presented in conjunction with dialogue; if you only heard them speak on tape, you’d think they got along and had a wonderful relationship. But by observing the body language, the entire tone of even the most “nice” conversations shifts dramatically into a more questionable light.

But anyways, those are just my contributions! :)

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[simvanie]

7 Sins Legacy - generation 5 (gluttony)

Gulshan: I really appreciate that you wanted to take me out for dinner after... After I got the letter this morning that my restaurant has officially lost a star. Halle: Of course, I can't imagine how it must feel for you.

Gulshan: Honestly, I still have to process it... But let's not talk about that right now. I don't want to ruin our dinner- You look beautiful tonight by the way. Halle: Thank you... But what are you wearing? It looks like you found it in the back of your grandfather's closet.

Gulshan: Oh- I... Uh, It's vintage. Halle: Yes, that's what I said. I was just expecting something... fancier. Something that fits this restaurant.

Gulshan: ...I don't really care what the people in this restaurant think of what I wear. Halle: Why? You don't like it?

Gulshan: My parents love it, but I... I have some issues with this place. It's very expensive as well and I currently don't have that much to spare... I'm losing customers every day since it became public knowledge that I was about to lose a star-

-I just didn't want to tell you when we got here because you planned this surprise for me. Like I said, I don't want to ruin our dinner... Halle: Well, I think my dad would love to hear about the issues you have with this restaurant.

Gulshan: Your dad? Halle: Yes. Well, technically he is my stepdad. You've probably heard of him. Because he owns this restaurant. Gulshan: ...What?

Halle: Yes, He is more a dad to me than my biological father has ever been. He has no children himself, so I will inherit most of his assets when he gets older. You see, it's in both our interests that his restaurant has as little competition as possible-

-And when he was reading through the list of new restaurants that the critics have high expectations of, he mentioned your name... I said that we went to high school together, and he asked me if I wanted to help him out.

Gulshan: ...So were you... Were you the person who filed the complaint with the restaurant inspection? Halle: To get rid of your pig? No, I didn't make the call. I just told my dad that you had a pig in your restaurant. He filed the complaint.

-I just had to find out what would impact you the most... Which wasn't that difficult to be honest. It was quite obvious that you had a little crush on me back in high school, and lucky for me, those feelings you had never went away.

Gulshan: ... Halle: I thought you would've figured it all out by now. Especially considering that you were never really my type anyway. I thought that was a given when I started dating one of your friends back then...-

-So if that's clear, I think it's time for me to go now. I have some other things planned for tonight-

-You should probably focus on hoping that your cooking skills are good enough to keep the restaurant afloat- Wouldn't it be a shame if it turns out that sir Hamilton was the main attraction and your food just mediocre at best.

Gulshan: Hamlet. Lord Hamlet.

Halle: Whatever. He should be on a plate, not eating from it. Also, don't forget to pay for the dinner when you leave-

-...Goodbye, Gulshan.

[galaxiasgreen]

⛅💗Nippy

Fluffy Ominis x F!Muggle-born!Reader [T-Rated, 1.5k]

He laughed, a rich sound, deep from his chest. You glanced sidelong at him then. The glow of the lamppost was cleaving shadows over his face, cutting at angles, accentuating what you'd never noticed about him before – his beauty. Sebastian was boyish good looks, round cheeks, a devilish smile. Ominis had none of that same charm, but there was something so divine about his features, his sloped nose and knife-sharp lips, hair combed back in golden-brown waves. And his eyes, despite not seeing, were... intense, unforgettable. Vivid.

It's cold on the way back from Hogsmeade, and you forgot your jumper.

A/N: This is a scene from Troublesome and Unladylike Chapter 2, but it’s edited to work standalone. Jumper-sharing trope, Oh No He's Hot, banter and fluff ahoy. Reader is Gibby, but no prior reading is required. Enjoy <3

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

It was during third year that something about Ominis changed for you.

It wasn't a particularly warm day that March weekend, so it was a mistake on your part to go to Hogsmeade with him and Sebastian, late that Sunday without a proper cardigan. The afternoon had deceived you, the sun whispering against your skin, and by the time you'd bought everything but your usual stash of sweets, a swathe of clouds had rolled in, a grey ribbon across the sky.

"What do you mean, the essay was twenty inches?" Sebastian crossed his arms. "You're pranking me."

"It was twenty, Sebastian," said Ominis, exasperated. "I told you it was twenty."

You nudged your head towards Honeydukes. "Okay! Just to replenish my midnight snacks—"

"You said it was ten!"

"I specifically remember saying add another ten."

Sebastian said a word you could not repeat. "It's due first thing in the morning. Blast it. I better go back. Can I take a look at yours?"

"So you can copy it? I don't think so."

"I wouldn't copy it. Just... take inspiration from it. Verbatim."

He made the approximation of a glare, and Sebastian, wincing, turned to you with a desperate gleam in his eye.

"Gibby? Please?"

"Sure!" you chirruped. "But only if you're okay with a mediocre-to-dreadful Potions score!"

Sebastian threw up his arms in exasperation. "You two, honestly. I'll ask Anne."

When he hurried off, back to the carriages, Ominis snorted. "You're very secure in your mediocrity."

"It's one of my best traits."

To that he laughed. "Very well then. Honeydukes?"

By the time you came back out, armed to the teeth in your weekly supply of cherry pops, Fizzing Whizzbees and rock, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and a sharp wind sliced through the village. It only exacerbated by the time you stepped out of Hogsmeade.

Where there were no carriages.

"Fiddlesticks," you muttered. "We must have missed the last one."

His lips buttoned in displeasure. "Makes sense. You took a profoundly longtime deciding between cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties."

"It's a hard choice to make."

"Well, now we're going to have a hard walk."

About an hour, down the meandering path back to Hogwarts. Ominis gathered his belongings and headed off, wand drawn for navigation, and you scrambled to catch up.

As the chill deepened, the canopy snuffing the coming rays of the moon, you kept close to his side, aware of his warmth.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"For taking so long in Honeydukes."

He scoffed, not seeming particularly annoyed, albeit a little inconvenienced. "I know you well enough now to know you cannot be rushed in there. And I could've left you if I wanted. I just decided not to because I am a good person."

"My papa says if you have to tell people you're a good person, then you're not a good person." Teasing filled your voice. "I guess that makes you really quite terrible."

"Oh, yes, waiting for you. How rotten."

"Suppose I could give you the Good Person award. You just have to admit how amazing I am."

"Only a Good Person can bestow the Good Person Award, so I'm afraid you don't qualify."

"I take offence to that. I'm spectacular."

"Incredible how you manage to be simultaneously spectacular and mediocre."

"Hey!"

He laughed, a rich sound, deep from his chest. You glanced sidelong at him then. The glow of the lamppost was cleaving shadows over his face, cutting at angles, accentuating what you'd never noticed about him before – his beauty. Sebastian was boyish good looks, round cheeks, a devilish smile. Ominis had none of that same charm, but there was something so divine about his features, his sloped nose and knife-sharp lips, hair combed back in golden-brown waves. And his eyes, despite not seeing, were... intense, unforgettable. Vivid.

Your gaze unwittingly travelled down the column of his neck. He'd grown taller since you'd known him too, lean in the way a river meanders, lazy in its strength. Sturdy biceps were hidden within woollen sleeves – not muscular, but not flimsy, either, you knew from when Sebastian cast a Shrinking charm on his shirt once. The Gaunt family were all inbred, generations of parents and grandparents that were cousins, so Ominis was a product of centuries of incest – but aside from his eye condition, and his somewhat ropey gait, there were no physical indicators of poor health.

He was... arrestingly exquisite.

Oh. You blinked. Why am I thinking that?

"What's the matter?" he asked suddenly.

You flushed. "Hmm? What? What do you mean?"

"You're quiet. That's never good."

"I— can be quiet," you said, a little breathless. "I'm... thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself."

You swatted him, and he smiled lightly.

"Dare I ask what occupies your mind?"

How good-looking you are. "Sweets."

A tsk. "I don't know what else I expected."

You fell into companionable silence, but now something had shifted in your stomach – something that drew your eye back to his profile again, drinking in the details, the beauty marks, the even jaw, finely slashed, the quirk of his smile—

You stumbled suddenly, toe hitting a jutting rock. You flailed your arms, bags rattling, before you managed to right yourself – and noticed how he'd reached out, ready to catch you if you fell. Ever the gentleman.

"Careful," he warned.

"Yes, sorry, too busy staring at— the view."

The view being you. You forced yourself to watch your feet, frustrated. Stop staring. It was terribly perverse to take advantage of him when he couldn't see, not to mention impolite and very unbecoming of a lady.

"You're quiet again."

"Sorry, sorry," you said automatically. You hoisted your bags to wrap your arms around yourself. "Just— trying to stay warm."

"You're cold?"

"It's a little nippy."

"Nippy?"

"Sorry, Muggle thing— I mean chilly."

More than that now. The sun had dipped, leaving a paint stroke of indigo in its wake. Hogwarts was in view, but it seemed no closer, the path winding and long. You hadn't even passed the balcony yet, where all the older students hung around to do lewd things... like holding hands (that had been quite the shock when you first got here).

Ominis sighed. "You should've brought a jumper."

"I know. I'm silly."

"Tell me something I don't know."

You halted to put your bags down and pull your shirt sleeves over your hands. "I'll be okay. I'll jog it!"

A ruffle of fabric pulled your head back up. Ominis had pocketed his wand, sticking out of his trouser leg, and was shucking his jumper. The shirt beneath it caught, flashing his midriff when he pulled the wool off – you flushed an even deeper colour when he offered it to you.

"W-What are you doing?"

"It's cold," he said, like it was obvious. "You can borrow this."

"But— then you'll get cold."

"I'll be fine." He shook it again. "Take it before I change my mind."

The wool was coarse, a dark green with the Slytherin insignia emblazoned on the breast, but warm – warm from his body. Great Scott. You scrunched it before sliding it over yourself, and of course it was too big, drowning you, but it was the scent that disorientated you worse than a Confundus charm. Ominis never bothered to use cologne, preferring some scentless soap, but still it smelt of him. Sweat and wood and an oily lotion. When you finally pulled your arms through the sleeves and your head through the neck hole, glasses askew, you were dizzy with it.

Lord have mercy. Your gaze flickered to him – he'd picked up your bags of sweets with one arm. One well-defined arm.

"Let's go."

You could barely swallow. What on earth is wrong with me? But your heart was pounding, your ears ringing. He turned away to go, but he was also surrounding you, invading your thoughts with zero intention to leave.

If you were a Muggle, your mama would've thought to bring you to church with an agenda by now, introducing you to boys of similar age in hopes that later in life you'd find a match, marry, and start a family. When you were younger, the local baker's son Timothy liked to joke you could marry each other, an easy escape from the societal obligation to court. You'd agreed as all children do, appalled at the idea of parading around to search for a husband.

Magical folk didn't follow those same customs – strange as it was to adjust – but that didn't mean you didn't think about the future, about marriage. That, one day you might like to have a family. That it would be nice to marry someone of your choosing, someone both handsome and kind.

Someone like Ominis Gaunt.

Oh no, no, no, you thought. Please do not take a fancy to your best friend.

But by then, it was too late.

"Thank—" your voice came out as a croak, and you tried again. "Thank you for this."

He slowed about two strides away. "Bring a jumper next time."

"I will."

"Mean it."

"I do mean it!"

He smiled again, and your heart bounced. "We'll see."

Please reblog/ share if you enjoyed <3

[read Troublesome and Unladylike on AO3, Wattpad] [Divider credit]

[octuscle]

A Night at the Opera

Ernest and Jasper were both no friends of the big appearance. Their parents had taught them from an early age to always appear far less than they were. The two had come to the opera by subway. That Ernest's velvet loafers cost more than a month's salary of most people around them, probably no one suspected here. The red carpet was laid out for the premiere in front of the Royal Opera. As Ernst and Jasper approached, a rapidly fading flurry of flashbulbs began. The two looked like stars. Flawless. Beautiful. Cultivated. But no one had a clue who they were. So the photographers pounced on the C-list couple, who were getting out of a presumably leased Bentley right behind them. Ernest raised an eyebrow, barely noticeable. Jasper smiled knowingly. The two politely accepted the program and went to Jasper's family box. They had made a generous donation over 200 years ago that enabled the laying of the building's foundation stone. And together with Ernest's grandmother, Jasper's father now ruled over the opera's patrons' association. It was not a problem if they were not recognized here.

During the first intermission, the two quickly agreed that it would be a wasted evening if they were to watch the opera to the end. The singers were mediocre, and the production tried to paper over logical gaps with crude, obscene provocation. Yes, Siegfried was certainly no easy opera. But they actually loved Wagner. But they wouldn't survive another three hours like that. Ending the evening with a glass of wine in front of the fireplace seemed considerably more appealing. They exchanged a few pleasantries with acquaintances of their parents, who were also waiting at the coat rack, and walked through the dusk towards the subway. And they were happy with their decision.

The subway wasn't particularly crowded: Jasper had bought a copy of the Times from a newspaper seller. Even though the premiere was still going on, there was already a scathing review of it in the arts section. Of course the critic was unfair and biased. But his style was delicious. Ernest hummed a bit of the overture's melody when a young man, who was the complete opposite of the two, stumbled over Ernest's legs on his way out the door. The boy was muscular, tattooed, and dressed to show off as much of the muscles and tattoos as possible. Definitely not their class. He swore and showed Ernest the middle finger. Ernest just smiled superiorly. And got the slime from the yob directly in the face. “Do you think you're better than me? Maybe. But not for much longer.” The yob laughed and jumped through the already closing doors onto the platform. Ernest wiped the slime from his cheek. Not all of it… A little bit had run into his mouth.

They got off at the next stop. Ernest's stomach growled. He asked if they could quickly get something from the supermarket on the way home. Jasper said that the fridge at home was well stocked, but he was happy to do it for me. Cumberland Food & Wine was really on the way and he could possibly get a bottle of red wine. While Jasper was scouring the shelves without finding anything he liked, Ernest filled his shopping basket with protein bars, chicken breasts, rice and eggs. When the two met at the checkout, Jasper looked at his husband questioningly. “I just felt like it,” answered Ernest. “Honey, anything you want!” answered Jasper.

Once they arrived home, Ernest immediately disappeared into the kitchen of their impressive apartment on Bryanston Square. By then, he had already eaten three protein bars. Jasper rolled his eyes and retreated to the library. He took a small glass of port and continued reading about the history of the Persian language. At least this way he would be able to end the evening with a little wit. He lost track of time and only woke up when he heard noises coming from the living room. Ernest had taken off his jacket and shirt and was eating a mountain of chicken breasts with egg rice at the coffee table, still wearing his trousers and undershirt. The TV was on. “What are you watching?” Jasper asked. With his mouth full, Ernest replied that it was the new season of “Made in Chelsea”. “You know, the stuff with Reza in it.” Jasper didn't know Reza. ‘The Reza from the gym. Reza Amiri-Garroussi!’ Ernest wiped his hands on his undershirt, pulled out his cell phone, opened Instagram and showed Jasper pictures of a young man. Jasper didn't even know Ernest had an Instagram account. ”Hot guy, honey! Do you know each other?” “Best bros!” Ernest smiled. Tonight had obviously not had a good influence on him. Whatever. Jasper was tired. He kissed his husband on the forehead and wished him good night.

The night had been wild. Ernest had come to bed at some point and had rammed his boner into Jasper's ass without much warning. This wasn't loving sex, it was fucking without any foreplay. Hot, animalistic. Uncharacteristic. But damn, once Ernest had filled his ass until the cum was dripping out of it, Jasper didn't care about any of that. He had never been fucked like that before. No wonder the rest of the night was full of wild dreams. When he woke up, Ernest was no longer in bed. The satin sheets needed urgent washing, with dried cum stains everywhere. Jasper went to the kitchen. Ernest had obviously already had breakfast; the pan for the omelette was in the sink, along with the dishes from dinner, and on the work surface was a thin layer of protein powder dust. Jasper felt somehow strange in the apartment. Something was weird. Did they always have such a monstrously large TV? And was that their furniture? It all looked so much like something from a furniture store. And not like design classics and antiques… “Bros, that's it for this morning! Good pump! Have a sick day!” The sound of the dumbbells hitting the floor showed that Ernie had finished his morning pump. According to the floor plan, their home gym was actually a children's room. What the hell would they need that for? Now it was the place where Ernie shot the videos for his YouTube channel.

Jasper was standing in the doorway. Ernie turned off the cameras and lights. Sweat glistened on his naked torso. Jasper's cock went up. Ernie turned around, saw the semi-erect cock and just grinned, “You dirty piece of shit! You know damn well we're out of time. Auditions are in an hour. And you should shower.” “Look who's talking!” Jasper replied. Ernie smelled his armpit. “That's the way it is, it's my trademark!” He put on a basketball jersey lying on the floor, grabbed Jasper's cock in passing and gave his friend a fleeting French kiss. Jasper knew that Ernie had rights. They had to leave in 20 minutes at the latest. Just enough time to jump in the shower and do a few pull-ups to pump up his muscles. He looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, he looked awesome!

“Love Island” could be Jaz's big breakthrough. At the audition, he was simply eye-catching as the incarnate bad boy. His snotty way of speaking and his arrogant, misogynistic macho appearance had convinced the producers that he could make it big in the trash reality soap. Sure, it sucked that his best buddy Ernie hadn't been taken on either. But Ernie was just already too popular. His fitness channel had tens of thousands of followers. And his appearance in the next season of “I'm a celebrity, get me out of here” was a done deal. If things went well for Jaz, he would follow in Ernie's footsteps next year.

Many bores from the educated middle class would probably look down on Ernie and Jaz with disgust and contempt. But hey, the two of them made good money, went to all the hot parties, and last weekend Bentley had even provided them with a shiny gold car for an Insta-story. The car had been pure porn. Surely everyone who stared at them with open eyes thought they were pop stars or something. It was only a matter of time before they became famous. They were young, sexy and camera-hungry. The future was wide open for guys like them.

[ssa-neeks-prentiss]

hello hello hello !!

a teeny tiny request for you (hopefully it's not much to deal with): reader seeing Spencer interact with the kids who come knocking for treats, he does a small little trick for them too

Or

reader with the team goes to catch an unsub hiding in an abandoned lab or hospital (maybe x aaron?)

honestly idk what I'm yapping about but here are some mediocre thoughts from my side

‹3

AN: Sorry for not being able to do the top ask, I started getting motivation a little too late- I also need a name for this series so tell me if you have any ideas :3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Word Count : 1k

You stepped forward with your gun out. The team spread around you. You looked up at the large abandoned building in front of you. You let out an exasperated sigh as you finally noticed why the building was so large.

"An abandoned hospital. This sounds like it's straight out of a horror movie."

You muttered to no one in particular but they all heard and responded non verbally with grimaces. Frowning, you opened the door but winced as it opened with a loud creak.

"There goes our sneak attack."

Emily said to the team. You nodded in response. You agreed and you jogged forward, not caring about not making a sound anymore. The unsub had been alerted of your presence the moment you had opened that door.

Once all of the team was in the building, the door creaked shut, it was unsettling once it shut completely. As it was now dark and completely silent.

You crept through the hospital. You saw many things, but the thing that irked you the most was the fact the walls were void of graffiti. It was an obvious sign of something ahead. Especially since the place was obvious and not far from the main city.

The team split up and you were set with Aaron. The adrenaline rushing through your veins became more and more intense with each room you walked into. You came across many things, security cameras in tact and functioning, fully set up operating rooms, expensive equipment was still there.

"Something isn't right."

You muttered until you heard a bang and a loud scream. Both you and Aaron snapped up and ran to the sound of the scream. Panic made you run faster than you had before. Quicker than you thought was your limit.

You skidded to a halt as you rounded a corner but not before Aaron smashed into you due to your abrupt halt. You grabbed Aaron's hand and twisted sideways to avoid the knife that was being held out using some sort of contraption. You let out a quiet sigh of relief as you saw the rest of the team come from the other way. None of them would get hit by the knife. You sat up from where you were on the ground. Helping Aaron up, you dusted yourself off.

"This place is full of traps."

You muttered bitterly and Aaron gave you an apologetic look and you gave him a small smile in return. You trudged to the others.

"What did you find?"

Aaron asked them. Emily and JJ gave each other a look.

"We found a morgue."

You looked at them with a perplexed look, that was normal for a hospital like this. That was until JJ added onto Emily's statement.

"It was full of the missing people."

You paused. Oh. So this was where the unsub dumped the bodies. You turned to Rossi and Derek.

"Did you find anything?"

You asked the other two.

"We found.. Uh.. Organs."

Derek said with a tone of disgust. Your head snapped up in surprise.

"Where? Take me."

You asked and he nodded. The team followed behind you two.

Once you got there, you scanned the organs that were in the room.

"These are all the things that were 'wrong' with each person. The heart for heart problems. Lungs for asthma. The spine for back problems."

You listed off a few things. Until Aaron clicked it together.

"He was trying to fix them. Make them better. Take away what was bad and let them leave in perfect condition."

You nodded in agreement.

"Exactly."

You spun around at the unrecognizable voice. Your gun raised along with everyone elses. He held his hands up.

"I can go. I've saved all the people I need to."

At that Aaron nodded and Derek surged forward to snap handcuffs on the guy. They decided to go the way the guy came but before Derek could step forward with the guy you held a hand out and stopped them. You told everyone to go the other way and they did with only Aaron as an exception.

"Why did you tell them to go the other way."

Instead of answering properly you spoke instead.

"When I shout run. You run."

You waited for his nod and you grabbed something and threw it forward and the motion set something off as the place started to tick loudly.

"Run!"

You shouted as the two of you dashed out and got out of the hospital just in time to see the section of the building they were just in blow up. The two of you were slightly breathless from the running as the rest jogged to you both and bombarded you with questions.

"How did you know?"

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"He smirked and I noticed the motion sensors."

AARON'S POV

Aaron smiled slightly as the nonchalance reminded him of your daughter, Eleanor, he could tell that she got it from you. The smile was quickly wiped from his face as Rossi walked up to him with a knowing smirk.

Though you didnt notice that as you walked back to one of the vehicles, speaking with Emily.

He noticed a light red blushing on your cheeks as Emily teased you about something. You groaned as Emily laughed. Aaron didn't take notice of what Rossi was saying as he followed you.

He climbed into the drivers seat as you called shotgun and scrambled into the passenger seat. He smiled softly as you grinned and stuck your tongue out at Emily. You were a mix. You could be serious in times of need but also childish and light hearted. He admired that in you.

Emily grumbled and took the seat behind you and he held back a laugh as you gasped dramatically when Emily jokingly kicked your seat. You whipped around to glare at her but the smile that graced your face told him that you didn't mean it.

He turned the key as you begrudgingly turned around but not before giving Emily the middle finger.

Aaron enjoyed watching you interact with the team, he didn't know why but he did. It was nice. He enjoyed being with you overall but he didn't know why he felt a fluttering feeling with you. It confused him to no end but he didn't mind being confused if he got to spend time with you.

That was one of his favourite things to do and he could do it for hours.

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

i have become what i had seemed to destroy.

i am a tyrant.

i am no artist, no poet, no painter.

there is a longing for blood and a power within my fingertips no god has enjoyed before me.

i will cull these fucking bots from my notification feed if i must bloody my nails and eat through my tongue, i will see their advances halted should it cost the surface area of my skin

[buwheal]

YAYYYYYY Birthday cake for the birthday boooyyyyyy hooray 46!!!!!!!!!! Made him a cake cause he deserves it :^D

#1 Salesman 1997 !!!!

....look familiar perhaps..?

[draptorronin]

If memory serves correct, the modern domestic chicken is a hybrid species of Red & Gray Jungle Fowl.

Essentially, one species had very tasty meat but eggs tasted bad (and was a more unruly bird), while the other had good tasting eggs but mediocre meat (and was more mild mannered).

So the people in ancient SE Asia said "what if we had a chicken who's meat AND eggs tasted good, and could be handled with relative ease... I have an idea!", and bred a bird that was the best of both worlds, that could also breed on it's own (remember, hybrid animals aren't always fertile).

So thank you Neolithic farmers of South East Asia, for asking yourselves "why can't we have both?", and doing something about it.

Chickens are the perfect pet bird. No other bird makes such a fantastic pet. Probably due to the 8,000 years of domestication and selective breeding. Thank you to the Neolithic farmers of Thailand.

whoaaaa now I’m looking at their wild ancestors, they’re so cool, I definitely see why people wanted to hang out with that thang

[tea-cat-arts]

Honestly, the more I look into mxtx's reasons for not writing side couples (aside from mobishang), the more based I think she is

[runespoor7]

Sometimes I feel sad about how JYL's engagement was broken because the last straw, the very last straw, the terrible thing JZX said that got WWX punching him, wasn't even about her at all, but about JC. JYL's engagement got broken because WWX is stupid about JC and WWX is also, in a different yet related way, stupid about JFM's favouritism.

thankfully she does get an apology for it, but yeah.

[captain-astors]

I am compelling the masses to read Choujin X. It's not Tokyo Ghoul and if you go in expecting the exact same feeling you will be disappointed, but it's a fun ride in its own right.

[itspileofgoodthings]

I mean I’m obsessed with crash landing on you because it’s like if a hallmark movie was good and that is fascinating to my brain and healing to my heart.

[akkivee]

where i’m at on that buster bros dt summary btw lol *is dying*

[crepuscularray]

Deercember Day Thirty: Megaloceros giganteus | Great Feast

Megaloceros giganteus, also known as the Irish elk, giant deer, or Irish deer, is an extinct species and is one of the largest deer that ever lived. Its range extended across Eurasia during the Pleistocene, from Ireland (where it is known from abundant remains found in bogs) to Lake Baikal in Siberia. The most recent remains of the species have been radiocarbon dated to about 7,700 years ago in western Russia. Its antlers, which can span 3.5 meters (11 ft) across, are the largest known of any deer. It is not closely related to either living species called the elk (Alces alces or Cervus canadensis), with it being widely agreed that its closest living relatives are fallow deer (Dama spp.). A handful of Irish elk depictions are known from the art of the Upper Paleolithic in Europe. However, these are much less abundant than the common red deer and reindeer depictions. The bones of the Irish elk are uncommon in localities where they are found, and only a handful of examples of human interaction are known. More information here.

References: Deer, Megaloceros Design 1, Megaloceros Design 2, Cat, Smilodon Design, Style Suggestion.

[7roaches]

chat is this real 🙁

[puthyflapps]

Swifties prove everyday that they’re the dumbest people on the internet and that’s really saying something cuz I’ve dealt directly with blarkes