"It's not like I mean to. Beautiful people are beautiful and I want to admire them. I want to be around them. Maybe I forget they have faults, too, that they live lives away from me."
"And then you see a photo of them on social media in a place you have no idea about, with people you don't know, and somehow you worm your way into my bed again."
"You allow it," he said accusingly.
Gian sat up and looked at the man next to him. "I don't. This is not okay, John. It has got to stop."
"You're beautiful, too, Gian-"
"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it." Gian climbed out of bed and buttoned up his jeans. "Go home."
"I don't wanna."
"Did you text Alexis and Turner about staying out late?"
John didn't want to answer. He rolled over and pulled the thin old blanket up to his red-tinged ears. He realized Gian wasn't going to say anything until he answered so he said, "I don't want to talk to them right now."
Gian sighed. "When do you ever?" He paused and pulled a shirt over his head. "I'm buying breakfast. What d'you want?"
"A sausage mc muffin."
"I'll be back in twenty." Gian grabbed his keys from the coffee table and left the small single room apartment.
John closed his eyes and cried.
a/n: wrote it in 10min without any editing as a (mostly) straight to document piece.
Carlos wore a black knitted toque with gold embroidery on the brim and a faux fur coat in creams, browns, and blacks. His jeans were fitted snug against his thigh and his shoes were a pair of worn down, dark brown leather loafers. His nails were painted something different depending on the finger, and a large ring with a gold-plated disk sat on his left ring finger. A brown and black patterned purse sat on his lap, handles along either side as well as a long strap. A long jaw met at a thin chin, all covered in a layer of dark brown bristly facial hair. He had thick ring piercings all around his left ear, and listened to his white ipod with tiny white earbuds. His nose jutted forward with a small lump on the bridge. His skin was pale but had a slightly sallow tinge that made him look not quite completely healthy.
Adam had a defined but thin jaw, clean shaven without any shadow. Black square glasses framed his soft grey eyes. Dark brown hair with streaks of grey overflowed onto his forehead in gentle waves. He sat on the lower level of the bus, so one could see the spiral where his hair sprouted from, tightly knitted and with more expressions of grey. He wore a forest green tweed coat that almost reached his knees, and dark blue fitted jeans. On his feet were a pair of laced leather shoes that came to a slight point. A purple wool scarf wrapped around his neck in large loops, almost drooping down the front of his tightly buttoned up chest. He sat next to a coworker on the bus and spoke to him with a soft and paced voice. He smelled of citrus and black tea. Black polyester gloves covered his hands and in them a black laptop case was held.
It was a Monday morning, but the two men got off at the same stop, one following the other down the same block until they reached a hotel with a gleaming sign in front that read, "ASTORIA GLORIA." It was a dirty hotel with dirty carpets and dirty floors. The vacuum and mop in the custodian's closet were spared any use for a long time, no time or money to put into keeping the location clean. Carlos was first to the front desk and made a quick reservation. He was shown to his room, and was soon alone. But not for long. Not even a minute after taking off his oversized coat a knock rasped against the room door, and with a knowing all too well what was to come, he opened it. Adam entered the room and their lips locked.
Word Count: 2,931 words
Summary: This is the end.
Authors Notes: Abrupt ending. Definitely not what I had in mind, but I can't make it any better. If you know of/have read anything else from STRIPE you should have an idea of what's going on next.
( + )
Elyde,( continue )
You've done many things since you left us; are they all true? Have you killed a dragon while riding a hart with an arrow in its knee? Did you free the king of Nevarra from the influence of one of those evil Tevinter mages? With nothing but a spare glance?
While I think your achievements both fascinating and doubtful at the same time, I've personally come to accept them also as the clan's achievements. You defeated this Corypheus, that is true, and we are all proud of you, lethallan. The great evil has been destroyed and Thedas is at peace once more. The shemlen no longer need you; they have taken you from us for long enough.
I will be arriving at Skyhold with your sister in two weeks to take you home.
See you then,
Word Count: 3,518 words
Summary: Sent out on another mission, Vettore and Albrecht visit Nisida, Italy to once again attempt at catching a Rabbit alive.
Authors Notes: This took a really long time. In contrast to how the first two parts were each written in one sitting, roughly six to nine hours each, this part was started the day after part 2, and went through many hours of sitting around since then. For more information regarding "We Live" and the world, please visit the We Live homepage.
( + )
Title: We Live
Word Count: 3,410 words
Characters/Pairings: Fidel Vettore, Alfie Albrecht, Dr Tristan Vaughn
Summary: Vettore and Albrecht have their second mission: capture a Rabbit alive.
Authors Notes: Maybe six hours of work. Suuuuuper tired now, after finishing it. Also, I think I'll be separating it into four parts instead of three. Part 1 is here. Stripe and all associated media relating to it are products of my imagination.
( + )
The trio didn’t shop at Kaiso Markets on account of it being inconveniently placed and its high prices. It was a market Agatha wished they would shop at more, because of the plentiful organics and amount of other healthy selections.
"Listen, Aggie, this is a lot of good food. Sure we can afford this? Damien asks, somehow managing to hold onto a few boxes and oddly shaped objects. Van looked up at him, then ata Agatha. He was also holding groceries.
"Why couldn’t we use baskets? What’s wrong with them?" Agatha frowned and crossed her empty arms.
"I don’t know, she said. Just then, Agatha got a sharp jab in the side.
"Back. madam." A man in dark green clothing had walked in front of Agatha and dropped stuff on the counter. He then turned to her and smiled. "Sorry, I was here first. Ijust went to go get something."
"Get to the back of the line, sir," the cashier said.
With a grin and a grunt, the man in green pulled out a gold plated gun. Immediately, everyone around them dropped to the floor with their hands over their heads. Agatha remarked to herself how even here, with Codes, people were afraid of guns.
"Get down, Aggie, Van!" Damien shouted, already behind a pile of bananas.
"Van, I’ll use Zeta and you cuff him," Agatha ordered and Van nodded.
"Don’t you dare!" Damien shouted, but Agatha had already initiated Zeta and went into the gunman’s brain. Her body fainted and Van caught it, laying it down gently before initiating Theta. He saw crosshairs lock onto the gunman and then he jumped on him.
With two loud cracks, both the gunman’s arms were twisted horribly the wrong way.
"Van!" Damien shouted. He was angry. Agatha suddenly shot up, back from her brief trip. Her eyes went around, looking for tips as to what was going on.
"Damien?" she asked. Just as the word left her mouth, Guard patrol officers stormed the market.
Fandom: Mass Effect
Word Count: 398 words
Characters/Pairings: f!Shepard/Garrus, Liara T'Soni, Kaiden Alenko
Summary: Shepard's body is found, although extensively damaged. As her recovery is well under way, she still is not waking up. Her friends and teammates reflect.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mass Effect, along with involved characters, are property of Bioware. This is a stage 3 draft. Wrote and proofed in like an hour and a half.
( mood music )
( read the stars )
He wrote in the journal, "The town was eaten. I am all alone."
Early in the afternoon, the boy came to the town shouting, "Wolf! I saw a wolf! Come, come, this way." Armed with all manner of weapons, villagers followed him to the outskirting fields. But when they had all gathered, there was no wolf. The child was beaten and the villagers left.
Alone except for his sheep, he wept. When evening arrived, he picked himself up and guided the sheep home.
Greeting him home, his childhood friend enveloped him in a tight embrace.
He winced. "Ow!" She backed up a little to get a good look at him but he shook her off. "I'm fine. Go home, Lucy. You shouldn't even be here."
She puffed out her cheeks and crinkled her nose and shook her head. He didn't pay attention to her and left her outside, slamming the door to his small shack in her face. With a deep sigh he rested his back on the door and slowly slid to the floor, pulling in his knees and wrapping his arms around them. "You shouldn't be here," he repeated in a low voice and rested his head in his arms.
The next day, the boy went out with his sheep once more. He watched them with a careful eye, and just like the yesterday he saw the tell-tale signs of a wolf, the tips of its ears and sway of its tail peeking out from the nearby bushes. At once he sprinted to the village crying, "The wolf has come, again! I see him! He will eat the sheep, and consume the village!"
And again the wolf seemed to have just vanished. The child was fiercely beaten before the villagers calmly walked back to their homes and market stalls.
Bruised and bloody, the boy shivered as he coughed and spat out blood. He looked up from his crouched position to watch the shrinking backs of the disinterested villagers only to see his childhood friend watching him. Her brows were knitted together and her arms were wrapped around her figure, her eyes slightly widened and her body still.
"Lucy! Come home!" Her father called for her, and with a shudder she turned around and ran home.
The boy bit down hard on his bottom lip and slammed his fist on the ground. He touched his forehead to the dirt below him and screamed.
Despair ground the heel of its boot into the back of his head and laughed at his sadness.
At dusk the following day, the boy saw multiple wolves approaching the field where his sheep grazed. At once he worked against the pain in his body to sprint to the village, but no one would listen to him. The butcher smacked him in the head and said, "Don't come crying here again, boy. We do not like liars."
The boy returned to the grazing field alone only to find nearly all the sheep eaten, their ripped open and exposed bodies splayed out to the clear skies to peer into.
Filled with panic, the boy ran to his childhood friend's house and banged on their front door. Without any time to lose he screamed, "Lucy! Lucy, the wolves are here, we have to go!" But the door did not even open. From within came the dominating voice of her father:
"Turn away, boy. We do not like liars. There are no wolves. Lucy's time is wasted on you."
Not wasting a breath, he ran to the side of the house and broke open the crawlspace door. He climbed inside and closed it. Here, he waited as the sky continued to grow darker and darker.
Not one hour had passed when someone saw the wolves approach. The villagers screamed and cried as they ran in fear for their lives.
Above him, the boy heard the doors broken down and the gurgling sounds of Lucy's father as his throat was bitten into. He imagined blood splattering everywhere as he choked on his own blood.
The boy covered his eyes and kept as silent as he could, shutting everything out with regret and fear.
By the time the sun rose the following morning, silence had long since fallen. The boy emerged from the tiny crawlspace he had hid in only to be greeted with carnage in the streets.
wrote this for k.
"Later. Tonight," he replied. She placed the ashtray in front of him and sat down across from him as he put out his cig. She refilled his mug and he rested his elbow on the table, chin in the palm of his hand, and sighed. The chicken in his other arm clucked and he dropped her.
"For the fair?" He took the mug and sipped before wincing. He uncrossed his legs and briefly looked behind him at the far off view of the lake.
At some point long after the sun had set, when the land was black and a foggy haze hovered over the rolling hills, far off in the distance few lights danced into the sky.
He drove along the curving roads and glanced out the window each time the fair came into view, the bright ferris wheel being the object of his attention.
When he arrived, the party had already began on the concourse. Music was blaring and bodies were dancing to the rhythm. The warmth of a summer night was felt all around as alcohol was passed around from buddy to buddy.
And then from the center of the concourse the pyre was lit. It was engulfed almost entirely in a near instant, striking awe in few. The dancing continued. Some took off their shirts, the heat overtaking them.
And then the pyre exploded in a flash of fire and light and smoke and people cheered and laughed and cried out in excitement. Fireworks shot into the sky and smoke loitered around the scene.
On the ferris wheel, Jean watched all this from a perpetually encircling motion. Hearing the music in his mind and feeling the beat in his chest. A smile covered his face and a cigarette hung limply from his lips.
What a fantastic night, he thought, and it went on like this until the sun rose.
wrote this with some inspiration from booooooom.
Forget. Forgotten. Forget.
"How could I possibly forget?"
"Is it really that difficult for you? Just eliminate the past. You only have the present. Can't even believe in the future, can you?"
"Look at you, a pathetic lump of flesh. There is nothing you can do while holding onto those memories."
A loud crash followed by a soft reverberating in the ground like rolling thunder. A myriad of colors flashed across the sky; cyan, yellow, maroon, a deep blue, velvet green. Bang, bang. Silence.
She laughed at him. "You're terrible," she said and her body shook with laughter. She buckled over and her gatsby hat fell off, her hair falling around her face.
A flash of light like lightning and for that split second she was a skeleton before appearing normal again, her double vested coat buttoned snugly around her small frame.
He blinked profusely and the grip he held on the gun tightened.
"Forget. About everything. Don't you realize--" She disappeared into smoke and the sun moved across the sky, noon to dusk to night to dawn. A thousand times as he stood still.
He spun behind him and there stood she, the woman who was his weakness. "Valley?"
She repeated, "Michael?" And he reached out to her, but she, too, vanished into smoke. Appearing behind him was the girl with her hat back upon her scalp.
A wide grin crawled its way up her face and gave her a twisted appearance. "You should forget."
Red water showered from the sky, he let out a cry. Time froze and he smiled before time began to reverse itself.
There they sat, Michael and Valley, on a bench watching the lake. The weather was hot but a cool breeze blew from off the lake. She snuggled into him and they both smiled.
"I'm so glad to be here with you," she mumbled in a half daze.
"Me, too," he replied.
A loud bang.
The fire was hot, the heat warm. He shoved his arms out toward the dying embers in hopes of collecting the fragmented, dispersing heat.
Faint light beamed down at a crooked angle onto the cold, dusty dirt. His arms were bare, a light blue tshirt being all he wore. His straight cut jeans had dirt on them and his sneakers had slight smudges of blood on the heel.
His eyes were dark and clouded, his hair messy and matted with dirt. Neither of the men could see the moon through the thick boughs of leaves above them. A frigid wind blew through the trees, weaving around each one and striking the backs of the two males.
Dark eyes. Dark eyes.
The older male picked up the shovel again and attempted to cultivate the embers on the ground, grouping them up in a taller pile. The younger's arms were still splayed out at the heat source. He sneezed.
"Is this bad?" the younger one asked.
The older male shook his head and gave a slight grunt. "No. No one will find out."
Clouds of smoke and kicked up dirt floated through the white beam of light from the overhead lamp. The older man coughed before repeating, "No one will found out," as if it were a mantra to protect himself from harm. Words of comfort that made him feel at ease.
No one would know what the fire was for. No one would know what they were burning, or why the dirt here was disturbed. No one would know the missing third pair of dark eyes, which to the world seemed to have just vanished overnight.
Their skin was dry and their bones rattled. Anxiety set in as the night went on. The embers cooled, leaving only a pile of charred blackness in its place. They buried the shovel with their hands.
The next morning they drove home, relaxed and feeling refreshed as if the night before never happened.
wrote this today, took about a half hour? Maybe.
inspired by the album art of Half Moon Run's album, "Dark Eyes."
Fandom: Spiderlilly (sims 3 original)
Character/Pairing: Julia Rochelle, Maxwell Shepley, Ashley Crono
Word Count: 467 words
Summary: Julia finally comes home after a night at the gym.
Authors Notes: Takes place during the university arc, after Julia and Viveil's breakup.
( read me )
Fandom: Mary and Elijah, and Friends (original)
Prompt: 002. I'm here + 1,308 - Pompeii
Character/Pairing: Mary, Elijah
Word Count: 473 words
Community: 100_prompts + daily_prompt
Summary: After two months abroad, Elijah comes home.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Legit took me 30min to write. Minimal proofing.
( read here )