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ats::family. [17 Nov 2009|06:06pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]

The green goo on his pants is blood, he's pretty sure. There are entrails on his boots, slippery coils looping around his ankles, and the smell is enough that even he, with all that he has seen, done, and inhaled, can't quite stomach it. What keeps him from retching is the knowledge that adding more blood to the equation is not the answer, and would, in fact, only exacerbate the mess.

This is the last time he listens when Wes tells him that some obscure branch of a demonic family tree is composed primarily of small and, more importantly, tidy creatures who are in no way likely to vomit up the entirety of their acidic viscera as a means of self-defense. Jesus, what does that?

There's noise coming from the lobby. The temptation to lie down on the patio is almost overwhelming, but he has a son and a business to see to, and, somewhere, a shower. He opens the door.

Gunn is holding Connor, dangling a plastic stake above his head, much to Connor's delight. Where Cordelia had found it, he hadn't asked; something in the way she smiled suggested she would enjoy telling him more than he would enjoy hearing it. Fred hovers behind his shoulders, the uncomplicated happiness on her face such a mirror to Connor's that Angel can't fight the lift in his foul mood.

Wes is sitting at the desk, head buried in one of Angel's reference texts. He raises his head to acknowledge Angel's arrival, and his eyes dart helplessly to Fred, then to Gunn, and back to Fred again before he goes back to his book. There's something wrong there, something more than a thwarted romance, but Angel is too tired to deal with it right now. He can't tell people how to handle their love lives when he's covered in ectoplasm.

Cordelia is sitting on the couch, sorting through what can only be invoices, judging by the look on her face. Angel gives in to impulse and drops down next to her, goo and slime and stench rolling off him. She shoves him weakly to the side and makes a gagging face.

"Did you get a discount on those entrails? Is that why they're all over the couch?"

Angel sinks deeper into the cushion and flicks some of the goo off of his sleeve and onto hers. It's good to be home.

8 comments|post comment

one more hand me down. [16 Nov 2009|01:13pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]

I am still chugging merrily along at [info]wrisomifu, but having accomplished my main goal - writing that fic for The Cave that I have wanted to read since I saw it - I seem to be sputtering out.

SO. I will take any/all drabble requests or prompts from fandoms you know me to be active in, or icon prompts, or anything. :D? :D!

7 comments|post comment

tell me how do you live broken hearted. [13 Nov 2009|01:58pm]
[ mood | *facepalm* ]
[ music | "mary's place" - springsteen. ]

So, okay. This is Top. This is Jack. I think that they are doing it. (They are doing it in a movie called The Cave, which came out in 2005, but that is essentially irrelevant to this story, which is your basic bar sex angst set-up.)

We don't stay gone, Jack/Top, 2150 words, Adult. )

4 comments|post comment

she was nobody's wife. [24 Jul 2009|11:29pm]
Famous Blue Raincoat, or: five times Jack and Gwen didn't have sex. Spoilers for COE. )
44 comments|post comment

if it's not rough it isn't fun. [12 Jul 2009|11:30pm]
[ mood | pleased ]

Billowy coat king of pain, Angel/Captain Jack, for Kita. Who wears the coat better?

nothing but porn here, people )

4 comments|post comment

thunderheart::insomnia. [03 Jul 2009|03:59am]
[ mood | awake ]

Walter's days are much unchanged since Maggie, since Jimmy: he wakes up, arms up, does a ride-through of the rez. His first stop is always Grandpa Reaches, and after that, the school. The kids look at him through wide eyes, unblinking: Maggie's death had staggered them, had staggered everyone. He still looks for her, sometimes.

He still has no visions. When he sleeps, all he hears is the dry click in his own throat as Ray drops the gun, and all he sees is Ray stepping toward Coutelle to draw the fire away from him.

He doesn't sleep much anymore.

**

Ray is not idle. He makes plans for Maggie's research, for his recordings, to bring the whitewash into the public eye: even though the bloom isn't quite yet off the Reagan rose, he knows some reporters dying to be the next Woodward or Bernstein. Bringing down the government one dead Indian at a time.

Sometimes he thinks he's doing this for Maggie, for a woman whose strength and intelligence made her an enemy of the United States. Sometimes he thinks it's for Grandpa, and his shattered turtle shell, or for some abstract notion of justice.

Usually, though, it's for Walter.

10 comments|post comment

every man's heart is a graveyard unkempt -- [02 Jul 2009|09:01pm]
[ mood | blah ]

I am fighting a huge wave of journal wanderlust, but because I don't want to change my username, I think the best way to deal with my dramatic tendencies is to delete some old entries, lock some stuff, maybe do a friendscut. It's nothing personal.

I've also started a new photobucket account, and am contemplating deleting the old one. I've moved all the images used for the communities I mod, but I don't think I'm going to bother with the Angel caps or icons.

14 comments|post comment

when you hurt when you suffer i'm your angel undercover. [08 Feb 2009|09:01pm]
[ mood | pleased ]
[ music | "bitch" - meredith brooks ]

Icon post, otherwise known as "How many times can [info]myhappyface really watch "Blah Blah, Woof Woof" before she is OTP'd to death?" (Also featuring appearances from "Prodigy," "Art Attack," "Haven," and "Meow."

a lot of icons. no, seriously. a LOT. )

A benefit to headphones is that I can listen to "Bitch" at top-volume as many times as I want, and no one has to know.

Except, of course, for the entire Internet.

18 comments|post comment

oderint dum metuant. [16 Jan 2009|11:59am]
[ mood | tired ]

My thoughts on the Bush presidency: let me give you them. )

15 comments|post comment

fuhgeddaboudit. [07 Jan 2009|12:27am]
[ mood | accomplished ]

Some icons from season two of Dark Angel:

hai, i'm eyes only!! )

16 comments|post comment

we place our happiness in other people's hands. [18 Dec 2008|11:56pm]
I hadn't realized how similar Ellie and Billy were until I watched Jurassic Park again, this time with my tinhat firmly in place. Bear with me a second.

i include picspam to make this less painful )

In conclusion, Ellie = Sara(h) = Billy. Yes, this is me not studying for my Greek exam. I JUST WANT TO GO HOME, OKAY?
2 comments|post comment

it was this strap alone that saved my life. [16 Dec 2008|10:25pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]

Wow. You go for a while without watching Jurassic Park 3 and you forget how satisfying it is. Also, gay. I decided to just watch the slashy parts in order to save time (FINALS FINALS FINALS), but that only shaved off that 20-30 minute period where Billy is missing and presumed dead. Everything else? Gay.

my favorite moment )

13 comments|post comment

yes we can. [04 Nov 2008|09:43am]
"We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics. They will only grow louder and more dissonant. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope."

So vote.
8 comments|post comment

in a little while you'll be all right. [20 Sep 2008|05:20pm]
[ mood | tired ]

At 700 words, I am officially giving my Angel/Gunn fic up for dead, and posting it here.

There's a robot in Gunn's office. )

11 comments|post comment

witness my lack of attention span. [27 Jun 2008|08:05am]
[ mood | awake ]

All right. I was hoping summer would stir the creative soup, or something, but no. So I'm declaring this unofficial work-in-progress amnesty day, and posting everything. There are a couple different fandoms represented here, including my sadly stalled Angel/Gunn romance.

hodgepodge )

Anyway. I'm trying to read The Executioner's Song, but all I'm really accomplishing is realizing why I try to stay away from true crime stories: they just depress the hell out of me, god. I can't stand it. The guy's in prison eighteen years, of course he's going to come out wrong; his family and coworkers don't report him when he does shit like steal guns and rob gas stations and by the time they realize something is fundamentally fucked about him it's way past too late.

17 comments|post comment

you killed a helicopter with a car. [13 May 2008|08:43pm]
[ mood | good ]

That was awesome.

30 icons from four die hards )

22 comments|post comment

i am jack's subject line. [10 May 2008|01:41pm]
[ mood | peaceful ]
[ music | the closer ]

Distract me! I will write you a drabble about an icon (mine) of your choice.

20 comments|post comment

there is no peace that i've found so far [27 Jan 2008|11:07pm]
[ mood | exanimate ]

"This arm beneath your head," Jack/Angel, set prior to "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" (AtS) and after "The Parting of the Ways" (Who). Beta by Kita; all remaining fuck-ups are my own business. Now with 100% more porn.

The second time Jack Harkness winds up in 1950s California, he doesn't get arrested, which is an immediate improval upon his last visit. )

41 comments|post comment

i pray that something picks me up [23 Jan 2008|08:57pm]
[ mood | tired ]

Fic that I am working on: 8MM (I know, I know, but I have a Thing); five ways some ancient Romans got their rocks off; and this Captain Jack/Angel thing, set around the time of "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been," a piece of which follows.

kinda porny )

20 comments|post comment

someday you'll return to your valleys and your farms [24 Nov 2007|07:34pm]
[ mood | full ]

Last day of break untainted by schoolwork, so: drabble requests?

12 comments|post comment

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