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momebieI'm not even going to try today, you guys. It's Wednesday. AKA HUMPDAY. I'm behind on my word count. I'm behind on life. But at least I watched Glee. A lot of people liked that first photo so this fits almost the same demographic. I'd never actually seen the real version of this photo before so I was pretty surprised when it came across my dash WITHOUT Misha Collins' head photoshopped onto it. My mom used to tell me that freckles were angel kisses. I wonder how many freckles that guy has. And where they are. And yeah. There you go. Boost your word count. Write some angel porn.
Write! Comment! Get the tissues! Repeat!
I promise that for seven days starting today I won't post anything that has to do with trains, just for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pocky_slash. Seriously though, it's not like there's a point anymore, since she pretty much already wrote the best thing possible for a train prompt.
Write! Comment! Get the tissues! Repeat!
I promise that for seven days starting today I won't post anything that has to do with trains, just for
pocky_slash. Seriously though, it's not like there's a point anymore, since she pretty much already wrote the best thing possible for a train prompt.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-11-09 01:25 pm (UTC)Although, I have no idea what I'm going to write for this one, so that celebration may be short lived XD
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Date: 2011-11-09 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 01:53 pm (UTC)Unlike the SPN fic thing.
:P :P :P
<3
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Date: 2011-11-09 01:54 pm (UTC)Also, as Thomas Gibson would say, "CASTIEL DOESN'T HAVE REAL WINGS!!!!"
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Date: 2011-11-09 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-09 05:59 pm (UTC)GLEE. <3
By the way, hi. I miss your face.
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Date: 2011-11-09 06:01 pm (UTC)THERE WAS SO MUCH ABOUT IT THAT MADE NO SENSE. AND YET THERE WERE WARBLERS. AND SANTANA IN THAT DRESS, CHRIST ON A CRACKER.
I miss your face too. I hope everything's going more or less well. ♥
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Date: 2011-11-09 06:06 pm (UTC)WARBLERS AND SANTANA WERE MY FAVORITE THINGS.
(well, and Blaine being clueless and drunk again. I have fondness for his idiocy, because it is so like my own.)
It is going well enough. I am just a commenting slacker lately. More hours in a day, please.
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Date: 2011-11-09 08:29 pm (UTC)Um, but this still comes pretty close, I'd imagine.
***
Charles is well aware of his looks. He's not a film star, by any means, but he knows he has a certain quality about him that people find attractive. "Attractive" is, in fact, the word people use in their heads. "Cute" is another. He's not exactly vain, but it's hard to resist harmlessly picking through people's brains when you know they're thinking charitable thoughts about you, so he also knows that it's some combination of his hair and his eyes and his coloring, the roundness of his cheeks, the ease of his smile, all of which works together to make him look younger than his twenty-four years. "Adorable," would be another word that gets tossed about.
Charles doesn't mind it. He had a friend at university who would scowl when women called him "cute," claimed he wasn't trying to be cute, that he was handsome and good-looking and Charles never understood it. Desirable was desirable, at the end of the day, wasn't it? If it ended with someone kissing you, touching you, following you to bed, it was all the same.
He knows differently, now. Because while he acknowledges that he's no less attractive, there's the pretty sort of charm that Charles gives off and then there's--
He's not sure he can put words to Erik. He's sharp and stark and that should be scary or off-putting, but it's really the opposite. Something about Erik makes everyone's pulse jump. He's sexy in an effortless way, and the fact that he doesn't care or try just enhances it.
It's not just Charles, though he doubts anyone felt it with quite the same intensity, feeling his mind, jumping in to rescue him without second thought, the lightheadedness of the lack of oxygen mingling with the lightheadedness of wrapping his arms around Erik's body, feeling it under his hands, the way he pulled Erik from the water and then saw his face and, like a slap, wanted nothing more than to kiss the saltwater from his lips. But though no one else may have stumbling upon their attraction so tumultuously, Charles is hardly the only one to be wrapped up in it. Every where they go, people stop to look at Erik. Women and more courageous, if subtle, men approach him in hotel bars. People on the street look twice and sometimes raise an appreciative eyebrow.
And, as if it wasn't bad enough before, Erik has just put on an impeccably tailored three-piece suit that's left Charles desperately needing a drink before they even find the mutant they're looking for.
"Is something wrong, Charles?" Erik asks, looking carelessly over his shoulder, and Charles shakes his head. Because, against all probability, Erik seems to have very little idea exactly how devastatingly handsome he is. Oh, he's aware that he's attractive, distantly, and isn't surprised when he gets propositioned, but it doesn't resonate with him. He doesn't acknowledge the overall effect, or even seem to care much at all.
He certainly doesn't seem to notice that Charles is possibly going out of his not-unsubstantial mind every time Erik strips off his shirt or smiles in that particular way. Or, apparently, puts on a very fine suit.
"I'm fine," Charles says, forcing a smile. "Fine. Fine. Just fine. Shall we get going?"
Erik adjusts his tie. Charles trips over his shoes.
part two
Date: 2011-11-09 08:29 pm (UTC)"He'll be back soon," his secretary assures them. "And then he'll see you, I promise."
She closes the door, leaving them in the empty conference room they've been relegated to, and Charles sighs.
Erik raises his eyebrows. He's sitting on the edge of the table, feet crossed at the ankle, arms folded across his chest. The things Charles wants to do to him on that table, Christ.
"Why, Charles," he says. "And here I thought you were the patient one between us. Will another half an hour really be your undoing?"
"There's a lot on my mind this morning, my friend," Charles says as mildly as possible.
"Care to share it?" Erik says. "A burden shared is a burden halved. Or so the saying goes. I've never been one for spilling secrets, myself."
"It's not something I'd like to share, particularly," Charles says. He's pacing around the front of the conference room, doing a very good job of not looking at Erik.
"Oh really," Erik says. "And what sort of thing does the man who knows everyone's secret like to keep secret himself?"
And Charles could have ignored the taunt, he really could have, but then Erik followed it up by adjusting his tie and damnation but he needs to kiss Erik before his head explodes.
So he does.
He crosses the room in three quick steps, takes Erik's face in his hands, and kisses him like he's wanted to for weeks. He holds him steady and puts all of himself into it, nearly climbing onto his lap and ignoring the fact that Erik seems too shocked to participate much. That's fine. Charles can kiss with enough fervor for the both of them.
He can't help but notice that Erik doesn't push him away.
When he does pull back, breathless and weak-kneed, Erik looks at him critically.
"Really, Charles," he says. "Why didn't you say?"
"You are infuriating," Charles responds, and when he moves in for another kiss, Erik meets him halfway.
They miss their meeting with Mr. Leon.
"Who needs super hearing, anyway?" Erik asks sleepily from the hotel bed, and Charles can't help but agree.
Re: part two
Date: 2011-11-10 11:56 am (UTC)Sean has super hearing! this is better :D:D
Re: part two
Date: 2011-11-12 09:10 pm (UTC)I died when Charles tripped over his shoes.
I'm meant to be working on other things, but shhhhhhh
Date: 2011-11-10 10:26 am (UTC):D:D
No better and no worse
Brendon/Gerard | Technicolour 'verse | 984 words
Brendon needs help and he thinks Gerard might be able to help him.
Halloween because I am cheating.
Date: 2011-11-12 12:19 am (UTC)Despite the ongoing jokes about jocks being dumb, Brian and Jeff (well mainly Brian) were actually big readers and the one book that their awkwardly incompatible book tastes had in common was Good Omens. Unfortunately non of Jeff’s douche bag friends knew of the book and had assumed that he was dressed like some dude from some show he didn’t know and kept asking him where his trench coat was.
Brian may actually punch everyone in the face. He wondered if this is what made Aziraphale enough of a bastard for Crowley to like him. And he was either too drunk or not nearly drunk enough if this is the shit that was going through his head right now.
He went to go get another shitty beer, or two, so he could go back to sulking in his corner because of course Jeff talked him into this overly complicated, awkward as fuck costume and then abandoned him in a room full of people he only vaguely knew. People who probably didn’t actually like him. Jeff would call him paranoid but there was only so many times you could excuse people actively ignoring you at events before you had to face up to the fact that your boyfriends friends didn’t actually like you and were probably only avoiding kicking you out because you were with the most likable man ever.
Who would make woobie eyes and make you feel guilty. Brian knew this tactic well. It was what got him stuck in this stupid situation time and time again. And motherfuck his life was so fucking pathetic. He didn’t even really have his own friends to torture Jeff with.
Just a couple of guys from his classes who met at a bar for a beer every once in a while to talk about class and science. Nothing that would really interest Jeff.
And on that note Brian decided against a visit to the keg, instead turning and walking to the nearest exit because he wasn’t going to be that guy. Sitting around a party making everyone feel awkward and making himself miserable for someone whom he loved but who had ditched him in the lion’s den.
He didn’t realize how hot he was until the cool air hit his face. It was refreshing after spending God knows how long in a small space with a bunch of frat dudes.
“I am too old for this shit,” Brian said to himself as he walked through the empty campus. He was almost home when he heard someone running up behind him. He turned around, expecting Jeff, but was disappointed when it was only someone out for a late night jog.
He hurried back to his room as fast as he could and when he got there he quickly shed his costume piece by piece. Starting with the wings and ending with the converse he had hastily shoved his feet into hours earlier.
He felt much more at ease in his sweets and threadbare Braves shirt than he did in tweed and wings. Despite his normally abundant patience with Jeff’s accidental asshattery, he was no angel.
(whoops no one is making out!)
THIS IS METAPHORICAL OKAY
Date: 2011-11-12 09:21 pm (UTC)Sometimes I'd come to enough to realize that Aron was holding my hand.
"I didn't want this," I said, once, and he squeezed my fingers, and I wondered what he was doing there. Why he was there. I was useless; I'd been useless even before the infection hit my leg.
Why did anyone still care about me?