Can You Please Just Get Some Sleep? @rbnvtch

okay this is a sc for a spicy one. this is a filthy sc.

❛  never  is  not  just  a  crater  on  mars.  of  course,  it  is  a  crater  on  mars.  ❜

holt & diaz quote starters // @putrefacerem

Adria Arjona

❝ i only sleep well when you're next to me. ❞ @pittmade

jack  says  it  so  simply,  so  matter  of  fact  as  if  reading  from  an  un-refuted  diagnosis  and  for  a  split  second,  SHE  FORGETS  HOW  TO  BREATHE.  she  takes  a  small  step  toward  him,  enough  for  the  edges  of  her  exhaustion  to  melt  into  something  else.  she  reaches  out,  fingertips  grazing  the  hem  of  his  scrubs  like  she’s  grounding  herself.  tense  shoulders  melting  down,  well  into  a  shift  that  dragged  on  too  long  and  left  too  many  ghosts  behind.  she  should  be  immune  to  tenderness  by  now  in  this  environment  but  if  anything,  gloria  indulges  more.  ❛ yeah,  i  couldn't  sleep  before  shift.  ❜ she  admits,  voice  barely  above  the  hum  of  the  fluorescents  and  break  of  morning  light  through  the  automatic  doors.

she's  cradled  a  coffee  that's  been  re-heated  half  a  dozen  times  that  night  alone  in  her  other  hand.  her  frame  titled,  leaning  against  the  counter  but  more  into  him  as  subtle  as  could  be  mustered  for  their  proximity.  there's  no  struggle  to  find  his  gaze,  it's  already  on  her,  already  poking  at  the  faint  hue  of  pink  adorning  her  cheeks.  gloria  didn't  blush  but  she  does  for  him.  she  smiles  then,  the  kind  that  blooms  slow  and  steady  like  something  she  didn’t  think  could  grow  anymore.  ❛ you  know,  i'm  getting  tired  of  packing  a  bag  and...you  always  make  coffee  better  than  mine.  ❜  it's  a  flash  of  movement  so  subtle  that  any  wandering  eyes  wouldn't  thinks  twice  of  the  rogue  kiss  to  his  stubbled  jaw.  she  lingers  with  weariness  and  the  reflection  of  stars  hung  around  him  in  her  honey  eyes.  ❛  from  a  scientific  perspective,  it  seems  that  the  only  probable  conclusion  here  is  to  eliminate  sleeping  apart.  ❜

a  twitch  she  won't  snap  up  in  her  maw.  the  way  he  says  the  word  CAMOFLAUGE  like  he  knows  what  she’s  been  trying  to  outrun  it since  the  first  time  someone  shoved  a  tourniquet  in  her  hand  to  save  a  man  already  half-dead.  like  he  can  see  the  thing  coiled  behind  her  ribs and  how it gnaws  when  she  lets  her  guard  drop. and  she  knew  he  could see it.

❛  well  then  i'm  paying  too  much  for  mine.  ❜  she's  been  dissected  by  people  in  far  colder  rooms  than  this:  by  doctors,  by  superiors,  by  the  mirror.

her  throat  tightens.  ❛  i'm  not—  ❜  hungry?  she's  a  terrible  liar.  he’s  not  wrong,  and  that’s  the  worst  part.  she  just  hates  how  much  she  agrees,  how  he  can  unravel  the  tireless  labour  of  moral  acrobatics  at  the  promise  of  FEEDING  THE  ROT.

❛  bleeding  is  easy,  billy.  ❜  she  presses  words  and  invades  his  space.  she  isn't  a  threat...she's  always  a  threat;  a  labcoat  won't  change  that,  but  she's  offering  resistance  by  tenderness.  it  lands  as  a  bruise  and  traces  the  veins  in  his  forearm.  ❛  i  want  to  know  what  they  do  when  the  wound  closes.  ❜

❛  but  be  honest  again,  querido.  ❜  a  sharp  hum,  a  burning  sort  of  melody,  amusement  becomes  a  strange  sickness  brought  back  from  the  gallows.  ❛  is  that  the  only  time  you  trust  me?  when  you  make  me  bleed?  ❜

there's a subtle twitch behind his lashes—barely there. you'd miss it unless you were hunting for it. and someone like gloria? she always seemed to be hunting for something.

    ❝ suppose a psychologist would call that behavior 'camouflage'—if they were ditching the clinical lingo and leaning into something we’d actually recognize. ❞

he tilts his head, as if parsing her—like she were a wound to be stitched or a bomb to be disarmed.

    ❝ uniforms aren't made to make saints. scrubs, fatigues—shit, even the suits, gloria. all they do is color the appetite. but the hunger? it’s still there. ❞ he studies gloria, eyes locked into hers—too long, too knowingly.

    ❝ but if i gotta be honest... i trust people more when they're bleeding. at least then, you know what color they really are. ❞

@medicbled

blows u a kis

*catches it and eats it* 😘

an non - spicy starter call so a regular one ? ( obvious subject for existing ships that it to be shippy if that’s the direction I go in )

 ❛ i've  have  enough  of  the  universe,  and  it's  people's  mindless  games  ❜  any  raised  anger  is  not  directed  towards  him.  never  him.  helpless  hands  work  over  the  exoskeleton  of  a  blaster,  which  once  belonged  to  her  father  and  his  before  him.  on  and  on,  counting  the  memories  she  might  lose,  of  a  world  that  no  longer  exists.  ❛  i'll  never  be  the  same.  ❜  and  the  galaxy  spins  on  uncaring,  would  twist  her  into  dust  and  decay  without  a  second  thought.  so  she  keeps  an  unfinished  war  between  her  teeth,  a  readiness  notched  between  her  ribs,  an  ache  she  couldn't  scare  away. 

LYRICAL SC // @muutos ( garrus )

one thing about gloria is that, she loves very intensely. it isn’t something fleeting that can be turned on an off like a faucet. yes, she can have a one night stand but it won’t mean a single thing to her…she won’t even get off. if she has feelings for someone and she isn’t sure they’d want her because they have not shown anywhere close to signs she would recognize, she won’t do a damn thing. but back to the point, they might not be able to handle the level of love she has to give. it’s consuming, it comes from the perspective of someone that leaves claw marks in things because she can’t hold onto things. people die, people fade and time is a luxury.