Comments | nakitamanomiko: (без темы)

nakitamanomiko

(Untitled)

Nov 11, 2009 22:03

So I've apparently got a short fuse today. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Fuck it, the drawer can have my fucking dollar. I'm bad service, what the hell ever.

I am not in the fucking /mood/ for this.

Comments 4

nakitamanomiko November 11 2009, 23:01:01 UTC

It's the worst in the early mornings. When it's still dark out and Spencer wakes up first, moves closer and it makes Derek stir, and the waking provokes more movement. Kiss on his neck, collarbone, and the only question he manages to ask is quiet and gets no answer. Verification one way or another as to whether or not he's there. Just lips pressed over his while he's still almost half asleep. Has trouble figuring it out sometimes when he is awake, alert. So he reaches out and touches his face, holds his head back just that little so he can try to see his eyes in the dark like it would even help, and Spencer's hand is warm on his chest but that still says nothing.

nakitamanomiko November 11 2009, 23:07:35 UTC

Also, DH is dead. They're airing the remaining episodes but that's it. We'll know what Whedon's doing next by the time the last one airs.

nakitamanomiko November 11 2009, 23:49:49 UTC

'This is what I chose,' Aaron doesn't say. Doesn't let go of the papers he'd been looking at when he'd finally admitted what had happened. Yes, normally he would have been taking a break. Winding down for when he had to go home to her, but what was the point in that period now? She was gone and so that need was. He'd gone to help the team and, well, that had been the consequence of his action. The last straw. He'd chosen work over her, and there were rules stating explicitly that as long as what he had left were that and the team.. That would be it. It was a matter, once again, of making a choice. Deciding once again whether or not he wanted to risk losing something. So he buried himself in the work to get it off of his mind as a whole. Off of the temptation that stared back at him. Or he tried, anyway. But that was the problem with working with profilers; especially ones that cared.

nakitamanomiko November 12 2009, 01:11:21 UTC

To sleep, perchance to dream, ther Bard had said, and Stephen guessed there wasn't a perchance about it. He'd always had a soft spot for Hamlet, fact that the play was so often the thing, duplicity of the boy's madness and the way it was impossible to tell how much of it was an act. He couldn't say he'd ever expected to get verification for that part. Had known a while back that the big sleep'd be coming up. Ever since the Dog'd gotten hold of him while he scouted St Petersburg.for help and reminded him whose domain it was. How much he'd see and the likelihood he'd invite himself along. Deal that went along the lines of giving him a chance to let Bloom believe he wasn't dead. And it had to be St Petersburg, but at least the final act wasn't a snore. Didn't know what kind of messed up dream the bits he remembered about bleeding in the back of the car were supposed to be. One where his brother hadn't bought it and had come back for him he guessed. And sure, he'd been there, holding him and..that wasn't how that was supposed to go. So ( ... )