Re: Godfather - Post ApocalypsebgalebDecember 18 2010, 20:05:13 UTC
Loved it! It's extremely interesting to know a little bit more about Godfather as just a private man. I believe this is the very first time I read about him at all.
Colbert/Person - Telepathy, part 1meeks00December 18 2010, 23:58:18 UTC
Brad woke into darkness, as if from a nightmare - jack-knifing into a sitting position, reaching his hands out, searching for something. He caught warmth in one palm and grasped it tight, felt the strong pulse of blood rushing beneath his fingertips.
He lives. Oh thank Christ, Brad heard. He smelled stale beer, sweat, and the sharp tang of disinfectant.
“Calm down, Colbert, you prissy bitch. My arm’s about to fall off here.”
The clear words from before contrasted with the slurred speech he heard now. Brad took a deep breath and concentrated on listening.
Don’t think about -
Brad was hit by the sight of his own face. It looked foreign, fluorescent lights painting his skin a sallow, yellow color; the jagged cuts peppering his face an angry red; his eyes wide and glassy, the blue of them impossibly pale. When the image snapped away, he blinked in the aftermath of such color, spots of white and blue jumping across the pitch black screen of the remnants of his vision.
Colbert/Person - Telepathy, part 2meeks00December 19 2010, 00:00:14 UTC
“You could try not broadcasting your every thought like word vomit,” Brad suggested evenly.
Ray was quiet for a moment, and the silence was strange. Then he said lightly, “Any requests?”
Brad thought he could see the familiar, crooked grin appear, even if only from memory. He settled back into the flat hospital pillows, the constant thrum of sound landing lightly in his ears, images slipping slowly into the crags of his mind.
A motorcycle. A Yamaha R1, just as Brad left it in the garage before he shipped out again.
His family and some of the guys dropping by every few hours, sitting next to the bed by an unconscious patient, but there all the same.
His parents and sisters crowding around, carding their fingers through his regulation-length hair and clutching his hand like they would never be allowed to do if he were awake.
Poke bringing his girls by, the sight of their small hands on such a larger one, saying, hello, hope you feel better soon. Poke’s own fingers covered in glitter, presumably from helping to make DIY
( ... )
Re: Colbert/Person - Telepathy, part 2samescenesDecember 19 2010, 01:54:12 UTC
Now you wrote one of my prompts! YOU MADE BRAD BLIND. BLIND. HELLO, NEW FAVOURITE PERSON. That made the images Brad sees through Ray all the more poignant and his eyes, Brad's eyes.
Colbert/Person, summer stormschlickyDecember 19 2010, 05:52:40 UTC
It takes Brad a minute or two to figure out why the fuck he's awake at three o'clock in the morning, but then there's a bright flash that fills the room and a rumble not long after that and it begins to make a lot more sense. He's kind of glad for the storm - maybe the rain will help cool things off a little
( ... )
Re: Colbert/Person, summer stormsamescenesDecember 19 2010, 08:20:16 UTC
aksfglughl i'm meeeelting.
This was my prompt because we're right in the middle of summer storms and it's so hot. This here is like my life, except I don't have Ray sharing my bed. A good or bad thing, I don't know. BUT UGH. SO ADORABLE I COULD DIE. Ray. The domesticity. I just don't know what to do with myself.
Fick/Person - college salvadore_hartDecember 19 2010, 07:45:21 UTC
Nate takes in the state of his dorm room and barely manages to keep his jaw from unhinging. He'd been gone two days, one night, while he tried to finish a project for his Honors Military History class and had crashed for the weekend on the floor of his group member's dorm. Nate could swear he had cleaned the dorm before he left Saturday morning. Now it looks like the campus had rerouted all waste disposal to the floor of his and Ray's room.
Amongst the crushed beer cans, foil wrappers, and upturned furniture, Nate doesn't notice the pile of blankets that are covering his roommate. Ray jolts up from under the blankets when the door slams shut behind Nate. Nate jumps back when Ray suddenly emerges beside his hip. Naked except for the blankets.
There's a new tattoo on Ray's skin, No Dice in black ink. Nate doesn't hesitate to touch it
( ... )
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Brad woke into darkness, as if from a nightmare - jack-knifing into a sitting position, reaching his hands out, searching for something. He caught warmth in one palm and grasped it tight, felt the strong pulse of blood rushing beneath his fingertips.
He lives. Oh thank Christ, Brad heard. He smelled stale beer, sweat, and the sharp tang of disinfectant.
“Calm down, Colbert, you prissy bitch. My arm’s about to fall off here.”
The clear words from before contrasted with the slurred speech he heard now. Brad took a deep breath and concentrated on listening.
Don’t think about -
Brad was hit by the sight of his own face. It looked foreign, fluorescent lights painting his skin a sallow, yellow color; the jagged cuts peppering his face an angry red; his eyes wide and glassy, the blue of them impossibly pale. When the image snapped away, he blinked in the aftermath of such color, spots of white and blue jumping across the pitch black screen of the remnants of his vision.
Act sober. Don’t start crying. Christ. Shut the fuck up, brain ( ... )
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Ray was quiet for a moment, and the silence was strange. Then he said lightly, “Any requests?”
Brad thought he could see the familiar, crooked grin appear, even if only from memory. He settled back into the flat hospital pillows, the constant thrum of sound landing lightly in his ears, images slipping slowly into the crags of his mind.
A motorcycle. A Yamaha R1, just as Brad left it in the garage before he shipped out again.
His family and some of the guys dropping by every few hours, sitting next to the bed by an unconscious patient, but there all the same.
His parents and sisters crowding around, carding their fingers through his regulation-length hair and clutching his hand like they would never be allowed to do if he were awake.
Poke bringing his girls by, the sight of their small hands on such a larger one, saying, hello, hope you feel better soon. Poke’s own fingers covered in glitter, presumably from helping to make DIY ( ... )
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Thank youuuuuuu ♥♥
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:D :D
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This was my prompt because we're right in the middle of summer storms and it's so hot. This here is like my life, except I don't have Ray sharing my bed. A good or bad thing, I don't know. BUT UGH. SO ADORABLE I COULD DIE. Ray. The domesticity. I just don't know what to do with myself.
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Nate takes in the state of his dorm room and barely manages to keep his jaw from unhinging. He'd been gone two days, one night, while he tried to finish a project for his Honors Military History class and had crashed for the weekend on the floor of his group member's dorm. Nate could swear he had cleaned the dorm before he left Saturday morning. Now it looks like the campus had rerouted all waste disposal to the floor of his and Ray's room.
Amongst the crushed beer cans, foil wrappers, and upturned furniture, Nate doesn't notice the pile of blankets that are covering his roommate. Ray jolts up from under the blankets when the door slams shut behind Nate. Nate jumps back when Ray suddenly emerges beside his hip. Naked except for the blankets.
There's a new tattoo on Ray's skin, No Dice in black ink. Nate doesn't hesitate to touch it ( ... )
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I adore this. I had a huge grin the whole time reading. Ray especially was perfectly-written.
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And haha, they were on opposing debate teams? Now I want, like, an EPIC tale of FORBIDDEN LOVE or something. It would be amaaaazing!
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I love how you say more than one thing in those three words. :D
(\o/)
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