#victors writing

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Broken Façade

Crossposted to ao3

Genre: sickfic

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Description: Malleus requires some TLC. Lilia is left a bit introspective. 

Warnings: mentions of vomit and vomiting

----

Evenings at the Diasomnia dorms were always quite peaceful, which Lilia appreciated after a long day. Retiring to his room to read a book or strum on his guitar for a bit before bed was a valuable part of his day. The hallways were free of idle chatter or wandering students, forming the perfect environment to clear his mind and relax. 

Tonight, the dorm was especially empty, as most of the first years (and some of the second years, too) had made the trek to Ramshackle dorm, where its prefect was holding a party. Malleus had been among the first of the student body to receive an invitation, and Lilia made the decision to let him enjoy the party on his own (albeit sandwiched between Silver and Sebek). The Ramshackle prefect had a knack for drawing Malleus out of his shell, as they always made an effort to include Malleus in their teenage hijinks. 

Wetting the tip of his finger, Lilia flipped to the next page of his book- a hefty cookbook featuring recipes from all across Twisted Wonderland. He was always excited to try new things in the kitchen for mealtime, and tonight he had his eye on a particularly intriguing beef dish. He kept a pens and a set of sticky notes at his side for annotating the recipe- he found the concept of adding a raw egg to a serving of raw beef intriguing, and couldn’t help but wonder how it would combine with other techniques he had seen abroad. 

The sound of footsteps in the hall made Lilia pause. Malleus? 

The mortal ear would have likely heard nothing at all, but Lilia could hear a pin drop on the other side of the dormitory. Malleus’s steps were light and careful, like the trot of a deer or the stride of a cat.

Lilia cast a sideways glance at the clock on his nightstand. The night was still young, at least to rowdy teenagers. He felt a twinge of concern when he realized Malleus’s footsteps weren’t accompanied by the sounds of Silver and Sebek, as Lilia would have definitely heard them coming. 

“Did you have fun?” Lilia asked the lanky figure hovering by threshold of the door. 

Malleus didn’t respond. Instead, he entered the room, his gait noticeably stilted as he approached Lilia, the shadow cast by his bangs obscuring his face. The bed creaked as Malleus wordlessly settled next to Lilia, squeezing against the curve of his body and resting his head against his chest. 

Well that was a surprise. It had been decades since Malleus wanted to cuddle, ever since he had gotten it into his head that he was too ‘mature’ and ‘cool’ to crawl into bed with the fae that had raised him. Lilia had probably gotten more cuddle-time out of him when he was an egg. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’?” Lilia said cautiously, watching Malleus’s stony face for any hints. The boy was difficult to read, but his frown carried a slightly different air from his usual scowl, an indication that something was wrong. 

For a moment, a paternal flame was stoked in Lilia’s chest, a retired soldier preparing to rise. He had enjoyed his time at Night Raven College, of course, but if a few buildings needed to be flattened to defend the sanctity of his boy, well…

“…It was fun,” Malleus’s voice, muffled into the breast of Lilia’s pajamas, interrupting Lilia’s thoughts, “I just…” 

A low, sickly gurgle finished his sentence, emanating from the boy’s stomach. A blotch of pink painted over Malleus’s unusually sallow skin as he wrapped his arms over his torso, a twinge of pain causing his face to contort. 

“Ah, I think I see the problem,” Lilia said, a twinkle lighting up his mischievous ruby eyes, “All that party food not settling in your stomach too well, huh?” 

Malleus muttered something Lilia didn’t quite catch under his breath, avoiding his gaze. His blush traveled to the tips of his pointed ears, and he would have been cute if Lilia didn’t feel bad for him. Malleus was never one to easily admit defeat, Lilia could only imagine how miserable he had to feel to leave the party and retreat to his guardian’s bed. 

Prying away one of Malleus’s pale arms, Lilia eased his fingers over his belly. He could feel the turmoil inside, plain as day, under his touch. In general, fae had hearty constitutions, but given Malleus’s…sheltered upbringing, he hadn’t quite developed the tolerance for the sugary and greasy delicacies his peers indulged in.

Lilia brought his other hand atop Malleus’s head, falling between his horns and brushing through the locks of dark hair. The sight of Malleus’s face tucked into the crook of his arm brought a thin smile to his lips. As much as Malleus complained of being babied by Lilia, he still knew exactly how to position himself to comfortably cuddle Lilia without prodding him with the twisted horns that grew from his head. 

Lilia’s mind brought him back to the past, where the much smaller prince of Briar Valley could tuck himself in a ball and fit neatly against Lilia’s torso. The process of growing horns was strenuous on the child’s body, and Malleus was often left with a low grade fever and pain radiating from the nubs that protruded from his forehead. 

A sickly Malleus had always been a sorry sight. The dignity and grace he typically carried himself was lost, with a glimmer of the child he pretended not to be showing through. Lilia was likely the only person in Twisted Wonderland to be privy to this elusive side of Malleus Draconia, to hear his low whimpering from a surprisingly low pain tolerance and a desire to be comforted. 

“And of Silver and Sebek?” Lilia murmured, continuing to rub Malleus’s bloated stomach in slow circles. 

“I asked the Leech brothers to distract them while I slipped away.” 

In his minds eye, Lilia could see the two boys already searching every inch of Ramshackle Dorm. Being tasked to such a charge as Malleus certainly wasn’t easy, Lilia could speak from experience. He hoped their fruitless search would lead them back to Diasomnia sooner than later. 

“Yuu’s taste in food is very…unique,” Malleus said, keeping his face buried in Lilia’s side. Lilia could easily imagine Malleus’s expression, how his lips pursed just slightly into a frown, but his eyes remained wide and innocent. “I wanted to try the things they liked. They seemed…excited.” 

Ah, that made more sense. Malleus had always been one to firmly assert his boundaries, but the Ramshackle prefect seemingly had the ability to make Malleus toss out any shred of common sense he had. Lilia could easily see how the situation unfolded- Malleus, flattered that Yuu had personally invited him to a party and unwilling to refuse any requests, and Yuu, with their charming lack of self awareness and eagerness to include Malleus in the fun, were quite the combination. 

Malleus’s stomach churned dangerously under Lilia’s hand, making an audible gurgle that made Lilia grimace in sympathy. Malleus was deathly still, the only movement he allowed himself being the white-knuckled grip on Lilia’s shirt. 

“How about I get you some water? That should help you feel better. You probably haven’t drank much water tonight, have you?” 

A tense hum of agreement. Lilia didn’t find the response promising. He’s already nauseous enough that he’s completely clammed up, he thought, frowning. 

Lilia started the tedious process of detaching the boy from his torso, careful to jostle him as little as possible. He pried Malleus’s clawed fingers off his shirt with the grace and concentration of a lockpick, letting his hands rest at his side. Malleus let out a groan when Lilia guided his head the short distance from being propped against his chest to lying on the bed, his eyes clenched shut under the pressure of nausea. 

Malleus lay on the bed, stiff as a board, legs slightly bent at the knee, as if he was unable to fully commit to tucking them against his belly. Lilia cast one extra look at Malleus over his shoulder before he slipped out of the room, more to ease his own mind than anything. 

Cold water splashed into a glass clutched in Lilia’s hand, courtesy of the sink located in the common area. Although most students preferred to get their meals from the cafeteria, each dorm was still equipped with a bare bones kitchenette for general use. Lilia had gotten the most mileage out of the microwave, which he had learned made popcorn far better than any magic he could blast at the bag. 

“It should be somewhere around here…” Lilia mumbled, shuffling around in the cabinet under the sink, “Ah, here we go.” 

He held up the real reason he had excused himself to the kitchen- a small plastic basin, probably intended to be used for cleaning purposes. It was a far cry from the extravagant vessels Lilia had guided a young Silver’s head into while they were at the castle, but it would do the trick. 

Tucking the basin under his arm, Lilia collected the glass from the counter, haste in his step as he made his way back to his bedroom. 

Just as he had expected, he found Malleus propping himself upright, a ghastly sheen of sweat over his face and a look of urgency in his eyes. Lilia approached him like a spooked animal, guiding a hand onto his back to keep him steady. He placed the plastic basin under Malleus’s head. 

“I don’t-” Malleus croaked through ragged breaths, “I don’t need that-” The smooth baritone of his voice gave way to cracks of desperation as he met eyes with Lilia, trembling. 

“It’s alright, just try to breathe through your nose. It’s going to be okay, Malleus,” Lilia said slowly, rubbing circles on his back.

This was the part Lilia had been worried about- Malleus was particular about being ill, to put it lightly. He had always shut himself away at even the slightest indication that a young Silver had an upset stomach (as human children were wont to do). While Lilia certainly didn’t find the experience pleasant, Malleus seemed to register it as a threat- and that wasn’t even scratching the surface of how Malleus acted when he was ill himself. 

It wasn’t common for fae to have the need to vomit, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. Lilia recalled an instance from Malleus’s youth, where the palace staff had prepared his meal with meat that had gone sour. Malleus was sick for days, spending the time he wasn’t curled in Lilia’s lap with his head in a bucket. 

The event clearly had some kind of lasting effect on the boy, even urging Lilia to personally take control of food preparation to ease Malleus’s worries. As he got older, Malleus kept that fear close to his chest, to the point where even Lilia had assumed he had grown out of it. But there were times his mask would slip, and Lilia could see his anxieties as plain as day.

Malleus’s brow was knit in desperate concentration, hanging on for dear life as nausea tossed him to and fro. Lilia watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as Malleus forced another heavy swallow. 

Wordlessly, Lilia offered him the glass of water. With a trembling hand, Malleus brought it to his lips, taking a small sip. He just as quickly reeled back, a gag ripping through his stiff shoulders. He hung his head over the basin, the water he hadn’t managed to swallow running out of the corners of his mouth. He hiccuped painfully, but nothing came up. 

“You’ll feel better once you throw up, Malleus,” Lilia said, trying not to wince at the boy’s clear misery. 

“Can’t-” Malleus brought a hand to his sweat-soaked forehead, clutching a handful of oily black hair. 

It broke Lilia’s heart to see him like this. His body was crying out for a relief that his mind couldn’t allow. Something needed to tip the scales. 

Lilia moved his hand back to Malleus’s swollen belly, massaging into the solid, angry mass that hung low in his gut. Malleus hiccuped again, this time a wet noise flailing in the back of his throat. 

“Stop it,” Malleus whined, “You’re gonna make me-” 

Malleus doubled over in a proper heave, the motion only bringing out a strangled cry. Lilia pushed a little harder on his stomach, keeping his lips pursed in a conflicted frown. He gagged again, the muscles in his stomach spasming under Lilia’s hand. 

Malleus’s eyes were wide with panic. “P-please, I don’t want to-” 

A wet belch was what opened the floodgates. A torrent of vomit slapped against the bottom of the plastic basin, each burst announced with a violent heave. Malleus grabbed at Lilia’s shirt for stability as another harsh wave washed over him, his sharp nails cutting through the thin fabric with ease. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lilia murmured, rubbing Malleus’s back, “It’ll be over soon.” 

The Prince of Briar Valley was a pitiful sight, his eyeliner having smeared from the tears trailing down his cheeks. A string of bile hung from his chin as he weathered through another heave with a shudder and a whimper. Defeated, Malleus slumped forward, leaning his forehead against Lilia’s chest. 

“Are you done?” Lilia asked, his voice dipping into a gentle coo that a more lucid Malleus would detest. Instead, Malleus nodded, panting through an open mouth. 

With a flick of the wrist, Lilia sent the basin away with magic, guiding Malleus back into a recumbent position. Malleus was limp in Lilia’s arms, finally catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. 

“You need to drink something,” Lilia said, propping Malleus’s head up with his arm. Lilia brought the water back to his lips, letting him take a few weak sips. 

Malleus settled back in the crook of his arm, eyelids fluttering as Lilia resumed stroking his hair. The scene struck a chord in Lilia’s heart- as much as he hated to see Malleus look so miserable, he couldn’t deny that he treasured these kinds of moments. Right now, Malleus wasn’t a prince, nor one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland with a grand reputation to keep up. 

No, right now, he was a child- Lilia’s child- that was sick with a tummy ache. He was tired and teary-eyed. 

Sometimes, Lilia wished this was the side of Malleus that his peers got to see. The raw, unfiltered person that carried the title of the Prince of Briar Valley. 

But the boy’s pride would never allow it. 

Lilia planted a soft kiss on Malleus’s forehead. This time, he leaned into the gesture, mumbling a contented hum. 

“How about you sleep in here with me for tonight?” 

[pigeons-with-jello]

robert smirke being just some fucking historical guy in england will never not be funny, like imagine being robert smirkes ghost and you hear that theres a piece of media talking about your achievements and such long after youve died. you reasonably get excited and alexander hamiltions like dude be careful. its never good when youre in media now adays. and you shrug it off because hamiltion was a great musical. and then you listen to the magnus archives. and holy shit. you wished it was hamiltion.

[whenthewallfell]

So I've seen a few band!Everlark aus and they tend to have Katniss as a singer songwriter, but tbh I really don't think she'd be a good lyricist. She's closed off from her emotions and doesn't like talking about herself or her opinions, and I just can't see her allowing herself to be that vulnerable.

But you know who IS an established creative, who's known for his way with words and penchant for describing his favourite colours via similes? Someone who isn't intensely private and would actually be willing to put his emotions out into the world?

Imagine, if you will, Peeta writing excruciatingly honest confessions buried under metaphor and clever wordplay. Writing album after album of the most heartfelt love songs for Katniss to sing back to him with a voice that charms the birds from the trees, knowing full well that she'd never look close enough to realise who they're about. Imagine him hiding in plain sight, driving their band relentlessly towards fame so that she finally gets the recognition she deserves, so that she can finally see herself through his eyes.

Imagine Katniss bringing these lyrics to life for the world to hear, unsure why someone like Peeta, a boy shining brighter than the sun and with words that could move mountains, would ever waste his time on her. Imagine her dedicating herself to their band in an attempt to repay him for the gift of words that changed her life forever. For the chance share that gift with others and have them see what she sees, these glimpses of the worlds locked away inside him

[bebx]

had to make this. also we need more Victor von Doom and Reed Richards as meme formats.

[mythboundcal]

When the Ice Answers Yuri on Ice Fanfic by MythboundCal

The music begins. But Yuri doesn’t hear it.

He hears breath. His own—ragged, sharp, then steady. Like wind through glass.

He steps onto the ice like it’s a love letter. As if saying it without words might make it true. That he’s strong. That he’s worthy. That he wants this.

The first glide is everything. It’s not movement. It’s memory.

And just like that— The letter becomes a vow.

He thinks of late nights and early mornings. Of Victor’s hand on his back. Of the sound his blades make when he finally lets go.

The rink becomes a galaxy. The spotlight, his moonlight. And overhead, the flashing of cameras Spirals into stars.

He gives himself to the moment. Every stumble, every sweat-stained failure, Every heartbreak etched into his spine— He offers it all to the ice.

And the ice? The ice answers.

By the final spin, he’s not skating anymore. He’s flying. Not to escape. But to arrive.

When he stops, there’s silence.

And then— Applause.

But none of that matters. Because now he knows:

He was never performing. He was becoming.

[zqnl]

art block been kicking my ass but finally managed to finish this drawing of enjolras in the seconds before killing le cabuc

+ dif crop/zoom

[moonlightcycle571]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Billy could only give powers to one person at a time, so the Vasquez kids take turns being Captain Marvel Junior (as they still look like kids) and they make everyone thinks it’s one shape shifting child.

Reporter: Captain Marvel, who is this new protoge worth you?

Marvel: you’ve met Junior though?

Mary, who wanted to take over: yeah we talked last week.

Reporter: ah what

At first it’s just Mary and Freddy (mostly Freddy cause he’s really into being a superhero) so everyone thinks Captain Marvel Junior is a shape shifting gender fluid kid and Marvel is a supportive dad.

But then the other Vasquez’s join in the fun

Reporter: Captain, new protoge?

Eugene, in it for shots and giggles: Claire, it’s me, Junior

Reporter: … you’re Asian now?

Eugene: woooooowww

Marvel: that’s low even for you

Reportee: but I-

Eugene: Both Captain and I have lived lives of many genders, colours and have been in many cultures. And yet you shame me for feeling nostalgic and reverting to an ancient form of mine.

Reporter: I- w h a t

It’s sparks a lot of debate of cultural appropriation for shapeshifters in general, with a lot of people invoking Martian Manhunter, fae and other shapeshifters. So naturally Pedro steps up

Captain Marvel and Junior both volunteering at a homeless shelter.

Reporter: … junior?

Pedro: yes?

Reporter: what are you doing

Pedro, making an ancient Mexican recipe he got from the Library in the Rock: making a dish I learned a couple of centuries ago from my then family.

Reporter, really doesn’t want to get cancelled: ok

Naturally this takes a lot of coordination, and a lot of people test them by giving info to one kid, and different info to the other. Solomon sees right through them cause the divine group chat is connected to Billy and the chosen Junior. Things were starting to chill for a bit. Then Darla joined in.

Darla, visibly younger than the other forms: Hi :D

Reporter: why do you keep getting younger and younger???

Darla: :3

At this point the reporter is so done. Are you a child with a lightning emblem on you? You are Captain Marvel Junior. And it seems to work most of the time.

Billy: *gets deaged as Cap*

Reporter: oh junior! New form? This one looks closer to Cap!

Billy: I’m not Junior???

Reporter: *bluescreens*

Bonus:

In a Justice League Meeting

Flash: So is Junior like a mantle? If so why is it only one kid at a time?

Hal: yeah, what do the others do when you take one at a time?

Billy, an absolute troll at heart: what do you mean, it’s the one kid?

Superman: what???

Billy: yeah so Junior hasn’t settled into which form they like the best and switch it up. I think they like it better that way.

Martian Manhunter, troll n2: *nods along* finding ones main form is an important part of self discovery. On Mars, many like to alternate between forms as they could not be tied down to one.

JL: ah

Bonus 2:

Batman: *slowly puts away the ‘Not An Adoption Problem’ Support Group invite*

Bonus 3:

Dudley: please please please please

Billy, fed up: WHY

Dudley: it’ll be so funny.

Billy: you know what, fine!

Later Dudley is given some powers but decides to only let the Reporter see him.

Reporter: … Junior????

Dudley: no one will ever believe you *flies off*

[thoughtkick]

Whatever causes night in your soul may leave stars.

Victor Hugo

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

love me a classic enemies to lovers prompt but instead of them going all lovey dovey for each other, the “lover” phrase isn’t explicitly stated in the sense that they didn’t kiss or confess, as far as they and everybody else knows, they are enemies. but the love, the possessiveness and the protectiveness are there in the sense that if one of them gets hurt, the other will stop at nothing until they find and rescue their own archenemy and nurse them back to health. and instead of pain and violence that used to be the only things they share with each other, this time it’s gentleness a character gives his own wounded enemy. because yes, that’s my enemy. mine. and he’s hurting. I must fix this. I must burn the world down and kill every single person who dares to touch my enemy. and then I must make sure he’s okay. because he’s my enemy and he’s hurting. I must take care of him. I must be gentle, even if gentleness comes as a struggle to me; for the only thing I know is violence. I must still be gentle with him because right now he’s wounded and scared. I must make sure he’s safe and okay. I must be gentle for him. I must.

— also check out this fic with this prompt here

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Day 1: Drugging/Poisoned

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Character: Zhongli

“Some more tea, sir?” a waitress asked, holding out a jade-colored tea pot with a smile. 

“I believe I will have to refuse, young lady, but I appreciate the offer,” Zhongli responded, patting the cloth napkin in his lap, “It’s gotten quite late, and Miss Hu Tao will be expecting me early in the morning. I should be taking my leave.” 

“Surely you don’t mean that!” bemoaned the man across the table from him, Suyun, “It’s been years since I’ve been able to talk to someone with as much rich knowledge about the history of Liyue as yourself!” 

Zhongli had encountered Suyun on the outskirts of Qingce village, admiring a weathered marble statue of a turtle that stood vigil by the mouth of a creek. The two had struck up a conversation about the subject of the statue, a long dead adepti that had served as the protector of the village. Zhongli had been surprised that the man had any knowledge of Stone Weaver, as he thought the stories of his dear servant had been lost to the sands of time. He learned that Suyun was a newly hired professor at the Akademiya, with a specialty in ancient Liyuian history. They decided to move the conversation to a nearby teahouse, where the time seemed to fly by. 

It wasn’t often that Zhongli was able to speak at length with a mortal about such subjects and actually be understood, but Suyun was an immensely knowledgeable historian. The encounter had left him with a pleasant buzz, something he had been lacking since the loss of his gnosis. 

“Well, I…” Zhongli glanced over his shoulder, hoping to take a look outside. The curtains had been drawn, strangely. The other tables around them had emptied, and the staff were nowhere to be seen, except for the lone waitress that had been providing them refreshments. 

“You must stay, I insist!” Suyun urged. The tea in his cup stirred. Zhongli hadn’t noticed until now that Suyun hadn’t taken a sip since the evening began. “You were just about to tell me about the connection between the sedimentary deposits of Mingyun village and the religious practices of the area!” 

“Ah, yes, well I suppose we could talk a little longer about that…” his voice trailed off, his words becoming more difficult to string together. The dull aching in his stomach that had persisted through the evening seemed to spike, now a cramp that his hand involuntarily spring to cradle. He turned to the waitress nearby, taking a shaky breath, “Miss, if you would, I would like some water…” 

Suyun’s hands were folded on the table, unbothered by the man doubled over in front of him. “Is something the matter, Mr. Zhongli? You seem pale.” There was something sinister in his voice, that even Zhongli could hear through the buzzing in his ears. 

A cold realization flooded over him as all the pieces clicked into place. Zhongli gripped his face with a sweaty, trembling hand, his voice dipping into a low growl. 

“Suyun, what did you do to my drink?” 

Suyun smiled. “Oh, nothing too special, just a bit of silkroot to help you…relax.” 

Silkroot. A fairly bitter herb, that after being dried and processed into a fine powder, could be used as a potent sedative. It was traded commonly among the criminal underworld of Liyue, as an easy drug that was difficult to trace and simple to administer. Normally, Zhongli would scoff at the use of such substances, as his immortal body could weather far worse. 

However, Zhongli did not have an immortal body anymore. 

With the loss of his gnosis had also come the introduction of a frail human body. He could no longer eat whatever tasty food caught his eye, as his stomach was far too sensitive for that. He not only needed sleep, but he learned one could sleep “wrong,” which would leave his back aching long into the day. It was a humbling experience, living life as the people of Liyue Harbor had for generations. 

The room around him had become a fluid, pitching back and forth with every minute movement of Zhongli’s head. Zhongli grit his teeth, lunging to his feet. An invisible wave crashed into him, unceremoniously dragging him down onto his hands and knees. 

Suyun let out a dry laugh. “I never thought I would see the day that the mighty Morax was brought to his knees.”

Morax. His body flinched as if it had been electrocuted. The shock gave him the energy to lift his head, calling upon all of the residuals of his Archon power he could muster to shift his eyes into a more draconic appearance. It made Suyun hesitate, if only for a moment. 

His body, which had once been as sturdy and unmoving as stone, now felt like jelly. Zhongli’s cheek made contact with the cool tile floor before his brain was able to comprehend that it was even falling. A hand grabbed the back of his head, forcing his line of sight back on Suyun. The man seemed to swim in the murky haze that had seeped into Zhongli’s vision. 

Suyun’s words came from the other end of a long tunnel, muffled, but just loud enough for Zhongli to make out. 

“Osial sends his regards.” 

[nolongeryisang]

I HOPE THIS HURTS!

[aevyndzn]

I miss them a lot, listening to “we’ll never change” and “shadow in the sun” reminds me of Victor and Eli every time. My Roman Empire I fear, I think about them too much.

[bebx]

[mournfulroses]

Victor Hugo, from a letter written in 1835, featured in The Selected Letters of Victor Hugo

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“Hey, I got you some ice cream”

You heard the voice of Jim Street next to you as he held the ice cream in front of your face making you smile.

“Thanks” you took the ice cream “What’s the occasion?”

“You were complaining how hot it was today, so I thought about getting you ice cream while we took a call.” He explained smiling.

You let out a dramatic gasp with an open mouth “Officer Street are you telling me that while your team was out there chasing a criminal you went to get ice cream?”

He chuckles at you “No, I meant after”

As you were eating the ice cream “Well it’s ice cream I don’t care if some bad guy was running around the city I have the best thing known to man.”

Street knew your love for ice cream so he knows this would make your day, Deacon and Hondo made their way to you as they heard your statement.

“Don’t let Higgs hear you saying that.” Hondo said as he chuckles.

“He would think you would sell the entire LAPD for ice cream if someone bribed you.” Deacon commented.

You looked at him as you ate “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t do that.”

The man stood there shocked, that’s when you, Street and Hondo burst into laughter. All through the day after every call one of the guys got you something, you got ice cream, iced coffee, smoothie whatever it was it was cold and you were thankful for that. At the end of the day when your shift ended you were in pain as you were making your way out of the building, the guys were in front of you when Luca turned to look at you.

“What’s wrong with you? You don’t look good.” He tells you.

Everyone turned to look at you.

“I think all the things I got today kind of effected my stomach” you tell them “Next time I complain of the heat just throw me in an ice bath okay” you groan.

They laughed at your comment and Luca gave you a pill to help with the stomachache.

A/N: finally wrote something.

[bitesizedpoetry]

Sylvia Plath, aged 19, in a letter to her mother (dated Wednesday 6 February 1952)