#jurassicsniper

[thegrowlingxblusniper]

Robert marched past the other Sniper, wearing nothing but his boots and hat and looking annoyed. "Have you seen a Scout carrying my shorts and vest?" he asked, barely pausing for the answer. "I'm supposed to be working."

Sprawled out in his fabric lawn chair Gene heard the others snipers boot steps before he even said again. Giving the hat that covered his face a tilt up to see who it was before his muddy eyes did double take over him. Not for a second hiding the way he looked him over as a smirk started to crack across his face. "Nah. Can't say that I have. But dunno why ya can't work like that. Bettah sight ta look at than what we get all day."

[wxthin-wxthout]

The New Normal

Spring was finally in bloom, casting off the chill of a long, painful winter to let the sun in. Seedlings began their journey for the season towards that light, sprouting through the earth, growing in a flourish of healthy colours and delicate scents. Birds built nests and filled the air with music. People started to hang their wet laundry outside on the line. All felt fresh, awake, and energized.

So why did Nick feel so tired?

He’d always been a good sleeper, quick to rest and quick to rise, guided by his natural body’s schedule; and with Robert wrapped around him, he slept better than ever. It wasn’t like he’d been working himself too hard either, that he’d been working period. In fact, he’d been planning to do some gardening, to get out on the town and take a look at the job postings, but he felt oddly lethargic and his thoughts, foggy. The kitchen he was standing in felt strangely dry and heated as well, even though the sun had only risen two hours ago. Standing by the counter, Nick watched the kettle start to boil apathetically. Hopefully Robert would get up soon and share a pot of tea with him.

@jurassicsniper

[vyrulent]

semi plotted thing || @jurassicsniper​

While Robert Muldoon hadn’t been the most present parent in the world, he had been a damned sight better than some of the dads of her friends that she’d known growing up. In fact, Jessica had idolized her father and had envied him for his work with big predators. While she may not have enjoyed hunting, she did enjoy the animal’s behavior. She’d listened to those stories of big predators with wide eyes and it was little wonder that she had spent her life covered in mud, getting on the Nile Crocodile’s level for the past decade of her life. 

But now she had been given the opportunity to work somewhere big, where she didn’t have to worry about funding and the expectations of donors. At Jurassic World, she was creating every facet of the new exhibit. The Deinosuchus exhibit would be finished within the month, all to her specifications of what a crocodile’s environment should resemble. 

“I don’t understand how you’ve never said a word about me working with crocodiles until now. I’m careful around them,” Jessica reasoned to her father, hoping not to escalate the argument. She was going regardless of what he said. “What’s the difference in being around a group of hungry Niles and around an extinct one?”

[grimmmedic]

Jurassicsniper:

"Fuck that bloody place. I'm never going back. Not for all the money on earth."

“I imagine no amount of money can fix something so inherently broken.”

[soldieringwithscience]

"Any chance of a second date?"

That certainly took Pascal by surprise.

“I--you--you really want to go on another date with me? Why? I mean, yes, of course we can do a second date, you were so kind to me the first time, I’m just... shocked, honestly!”

Pascal managed to shut themself up after that, their eyes still wide as they brushed their hair out of their face and cleared their throat. “Yes. I meant to just say... yes.”

It just wasn’t often anymore that they got a second date.

[spybleu]

{xoxo} @jurassicsniper

Optimistic - that certainly wasn’t a term that Charles would have ever used on himself in his short life; though in comparison to where he was ten years ago to now, enough had changed in himself and his life that perhaps he could possibly begin to fit into that category. There certainly was a glimpse of optimism in the espion at the touch to his shoulder and the gentle squeeze that came with the offer to see the sniper again, stirring a faintly flirtatious quirk of his brow as he found himself only able to watch as the man leaned in once more. The brush of the snipers lips to his was too short for his liking; putting in his years of restraint to keep himself from trailing after as his starved flesh ached for a little more. Putting on a face of mild amusement that even surprised himself until the last of the bowsmen had slipped out the kitchen door, feeling the instant burn of heat finally starting to creep up his collar the moment he was free to relax with no one to witness his shameful inability to be no longer effected.

He really was out of practice.

It had been years since the spy had even entertained the thought of having something more with anyone beyond the select few he had trusted with his friendship; all of which were usually women that he had grown particularly fond of, and knew that nothing more would ever come from it. This, however, was a far cry different and it showed in the nervous way the espion’s leather clad fingers brushed back the long dark strands of the pompadour that continuously threatened to slip into his eyes, as he came before the snipers camper the next evening. It having taken a great deal of inner discussions to conclude that showing up at the man’s door the same evening he had been invited, would perhaps appear a bit too desperate; the fear of anyone knowing just how truly he needed companionship controlling the way he approached this curious marksmen. His hands shifting the bottle of wine he opted to bring as alternative to the beer he had no real taste for, freeing his dominate hand to knock gently at his campers door. 

[uberforyourcat-blog]

“Quit saying you’re bored, or I’ll find a way to entertain you.”

“That a threat you plan to make good on, owl boy?” It seems like Reagan is definitely in a mood today somewhere between angry and horny.

[professional-australian-assassin]

11. your muse has made themself comfortable in my muse’s home

Despite sleeping a lot, in lots of different places, Mundy was anything but a heavy sleeper. That was why it was more than a bit of a shock when he snapped awake at the instinct that someone wasn’t entering his van, they are already in it. 

He sat up, his hand for the kukri he kept under his pillow. He had to admit, he was expecting a Spy, but recognizing the other as a different member of BLU didn’t exactly make him relax. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing in my van?” He demanded, glaring at the other sniper with the kind of indignation only a home invasion could elicit.