#;silas

[amibones]

“I don’t know, I still think my cooking’s better than mum’s which means I must be a better cook than you.”

@silasbones

[secondhandmckie]

@reprcbates (continued from x)

   “You can swing if you want to.     I probably deserve it.”

There was nothing more awkward than Silas’s attempt to prop himself on her tiny window with his frame.                               [ sometimes his height really was a burden ]                 He would have entered, if he was guaranteed that his body wouldn’t immediately fall into the world’s most intense case of pins and needles. But there were more important things to discuss besides his crunched body.

   “Have you noticed anything off     about your living space? Even     if it was just a hunch?”

“What? What?”

Once the initial shock had subsided, Molly could only gesture toward him in dismay. She only just remembered to set aside her baseball bat with a metallic clatter on the floor. In her mind, her reaction was very much called for, considering there was a very large man squashed up on her window. 

“Did you come for any particular reason, or just to shoot the shit about my loft?” She gestured him away from the window. “Come in, or whatever. What exactly is supposed to be off about my living space?”

[thebonetrain]

[ the Bones family ]

david boreanaz as andrew bones reese witherspoon as helen bones freddie stroma as edgar bones taron egerton as silas bones skyler samuels as amelia bones

@the-edgarbones @amibones

[whysilas-blog]

Silas Faulkner & Eli Dawson ~ An Enemy Aesthetic

Brought you around and you just brought me down Hate is a strong word but I really, really, really don't like you

@eli-dawson

[secondhandmckie]

@reprcbates

“We got in a few things that I think you’re really gonna like--just you wait, buddy!” 

There’s a tone of pride in her voice; the sort of smugness one would have if they knew for certain that the other party would enjoy what they were about to present. It was something Molly was able to have quite often, because she usually had a way with these things. When it came to Silas, she was beginning to think she was quite good at finding treasures he’d enjoy.

The box is set on the counter with the utmost care, the glass bottles inside tinkling delicately against one another, and again when she reached in to pluck one out. It was ridged and a rich, beautiful blue. 

“Behold! Just look at this beauty, wouldn’t you? Perfect and absolutely macabre, isn’t it? It’s a poison bottle. Was, I mean. You know what they used to do? Not everyone could read back then, yeah? Not everyone could read, so what they’d do is put chemicals and poisons in colored bottles like this.” Molly offered the bottle to him for his perusal. “Colored bottles, and there would be ridges along the sides so they could tell the difference between this and, say, their medicine. There are also one’s with different shaped bottles, and ones with skulls and crossbones. Smart, right? Just beautiful.”

[secondhandmckie]

Wendigos on Wednesday

@reprcbates

So, the thing was stolen.

It served her right, really, for not doing her research before taking it in and handing over the money. It was a larger sum than she typically would pay for something she would clean up and resell, but Molly had been taken in by the totem. There had been something odd and enigmatic about the hollowed eyes and the odd etchings in its body...something she couldn’t resist. 

She adored a good mystery. So, she’d paid the man his fee and sent him on his way. It was hardly any time at all before the police were at her door and slapping the handcuffs on her wrists. It served her right for not doing her research. 

Instead of the small town station, however, Molly had been herded into the back of an unmarked black car. To add insult to injury, they pulled a black sack over her head, and drove quickly away. 

“What the hell is going on?!” She demanded, struggling in futility against the metal restraints. “I swear to God--get this sack off of my face! I can’t...” Her heart raced beneath her ribs, quickened breath heating the bag over her face, reminding her that she was closed in. Closed...closed in...closing in... 

All at once, Molly heard the door open. She could feel herself being dragged from the car and ushered this way and that. Down pathways and hallways and-- 

“Jesus!” The sack was finally lifted from her face as she was placed into a chair, the bright fluorescent lights all the brighter after being kept so long in the dark. An office, she finally realized. Not a police station, but an office, immaculately organized. And, a man...a large and severe-looking man behind the desk, attention solely focused on an open file in his hands. He didn’t seem to notice her presence at all. 

Molly stared at him with growing ire. “Excuse me, buddy,” She growled, but if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on around here in exactly five seconds, I’ll make sure you eat that folder.” 

[thebonetrain]

Silas: Pipps is hot.

Silas: Naomi is hot.

Silas: Greta is hot. Why is everybody so hot?

Tilden: I've learned this in school, it's called global warming.

[bi0w0lf]

Do I give you butterflies, sugar?

Love notes ; 

        He was never able to hide it… his staring. Even now with a radstorm at their back, the sickly green flashes rolling over the skies with a vicious boom; he couldn’t look away. The unrest in the heavens made him flinch, the tremors of discomfort still evident, throat tensed as he swallowed the knot bound within it. 

     The color of his cheeks turned, burning hot as Silas looked over, calling him out. The corners of his lips twitched, curled back into a sheepish grin. It pulled his scars tight, fingertips lifted to brush across them, shy even now after all this time. 

      “Everyday you cocky shit.” He murmurs softly, no malice in the words. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Slowly, Thomas eased forward, slipping off his desk chair, crossing the room in silent strides to where Silas was sat. He stood in front of him as he loosed his utility belt, pulling it away to throw it aside. It hit the floor with a heavy thud, weighted by ammunition. Then left his holsters, and his duster, anything with a hard edge to prevent closeness between them. 

    “It’s cause I love you, you know.” His words were quiet, said almost in passing as eyes traced the outline of Silas’ jaw. He could stand there. Count the freckles. Watch the light change on his eyes. It didn’t matter, as long as Silas was there.   With care, Thomas fitted himself onto Silas’ lap, reclining to tuck himself against the side of the chair. 

         “More than anythin’,” Tom breathed out in a sigh, kissing his teeth in a sharp sound of mock annoyance. “–– and I hate it.”