idea_of_sarcasm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
idea_of_sarcasm) wrote2007-05-01 10:32 pm
idea_of_sarcasm) wrote2007-05-01 10:32 pm
Entry tags:
Random "fic"
So, despite the fact that two out of the three 'never write' prompts were in shows I do not know *cough* ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annearchy acoustics1220 *cough* - I knew at least enough to, uh, fake my way through (and yeah, Lindsey/Angel is SO not shippy as I have no idea of their dynamic never having seen Lindsey really on the show).
And despite the fact it's been eons since I wrote anything in Gilmore Girls (well, it feels like it), and never at all with these characters - here are the snippets (drabbles?) of fics 'idea_of_sarcasm will never write':
(feel free to comment on more if anyone's bored - I need something to entertain me, and real fic isn't working)
"Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Angel normally would have smirked in amusement when asking the question, but with the shock of seeing Lindsey, alive, and sitting on the couch in his apartment, he was lucky he could form something somewhat witty. He was hard to miss – considering the size of the place. Apparently saving the world in it's entirety barely earned you gratitude, let alone money. And Wolfram and Hart was a distant memory.
He was supposed to be dead. Lorne had guaranteed he was dead. He might have been useful in that last fight as a human shield, but there was still to high a possibility of being stabbed in the back. Literally and metaphorically. So, he'd had to go – and he was supposed to have been fucking gone.
But with all the strange things in his life, Angel didn't know why he was surprised to find the other man alive.
"A gun," Lindsey replied, standing up smoothly from the edge of the desk, pulling out the weapon and twirling it around on his finger almost absent-mindedly.
Angel watched in amusement, letting his fangs come out, "You realize that I'm somewhat impervious to bullets, in case that has somehow escaped your attention in, oh, ever."
He didn't even have time to react when Lindsey twirled in one last time, landing in the firing position as he squeezed the trigger – the gun exploding and bullet flying forward and lodging in Angel's chest. He also didn't even have time to react with more than an expression of slight dismay, before the world ceased to exist.
"Not when they're wooden bullets," Lindsey replied with a smirk, but the effect was lost. It just wasn't the same exchanging barbs with a big pile of dust.
Shrugging, he strode towards the door. There was still a demon waiting for an appointment with him. He wasn't even going to waste a weapon on that one. Brute physical force would be so much more entertaining.
"You're not good enough for her," Dean practically spat the words at Jess, shoving him against the wall outside Luke's diner.
It was a small variation on the argument that had started at school, the same fight that had got him suspended, and Dean with detention. How that equated to fair, he would never know, but he'd been raging against the 'system' practically since he was born – it only provided another excuse. That, and the way he'd had to bend to Luke's every whim in order for the man to allow him to stay – trying to maintain his pride all the while. Not an easy feat. He'd come close to telling his uncle to fuck off with every ranting lecture the man brought out, but the kicker was he didn't want to take off again. Not when he had no place else to go, Rory was really only the easy excuse. But, unlike the fight that had started with Jess accidentally bumping Dean into the lockers of Stars Hollows high, this time there was nobody there to break it up.
"And you were?" Jess's voice was incredulous, giving Dean a lazy once over, before shoving the other boy forcefully back, unable to simply stand there and take his shit. "You take too much interest in a girl who dumped you – for me – and trust me, hasn't given you a second thought since."
He was itching for Dean to take a swing, to give him an excuse to rearrange his pretty face the way he'd wanted to since the moment they'd met, and it was obvious the other boy was itching to lay a hand on him. But Opie apparently had a few untapped reserves of self-restraint because he stood there a few feet away, breathing heavily in his anger, his hands fisted at his sides rather than aiming for Jess' face.
"Fuck you Jess," he began, and Jess cut him off when he hesitated.
"Succinct as always Opie," he remarked, raising his eyebrows, "what a stunning vocabulary you have. I am very hurt at your words – I may have to go home and shed a few tears. Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage – that was Shakespeare, in case, no wait - since you've never had exposure to the man beyond watching DiCrapio 'act' out Romeo and Juliet."
Dean ignored his insults the way he always did, mostly because the other man had no retort. "When you break her, I'm going to be there to pick up the pieces. I'm always going to be there – when you take off, when you finally get sent to juvie, when she finally realizes she's going to be dating a high school drop out, when you finally reveal what an asshole you are – I'll be there."
"Pathetic," was all Jess said, dismissively, moving to step around Dean, although the other boy stepped over to the side, blocking his path out of the alley. "What? Do you really want to continue this conversation, stimulating though it is? If I didn't know better, I might think you liked my company."
Of course he didn't move. He'd been itching for a fight since he followed Jess into the alley while he was taking out the garbage, actually even probably since the day they'd properly met. Normally, Jess didn't oblige. "Move," he said bluntly, trying too side step him again, but this time not only did Dean block him, he raised his hands, shoving Jess hard against the wall, his head bouncing off the brick.
And then he was launching himself at Dean, fists flying, bodies hitting the ground, rolling around, skinned flesh bleeding, and broken noses – and all Jess could think about was how if Taylor saw this, if Lorelai saw this, if Miss Patty saw this, hell, if anyone saw this, he was done. Luke may care about him more than his own mother, but he didn't have unlimited reserves of patience. And then he obviously wasn't thinking at all because in the midst of the punches, his lips were all of a sudden fused to Dean's, kissing him in the rough angry way he could never do with Rory – the innocent and pure little girl.
Apparently he was going for broke – in addition to wanting to mess up that pretty face, he'd always wanted to kiss it. It wasn't that blatant stupidity was his turn on, he was more shallow than that. It was all about the looks. It was that same innocence that drew him to Rory, just begging to be spoiled – by him.
Dean's mouth was shocked and motionless beneath his, but then nobody was more shocked than Jess when he parted his lips wider, slipping his tongue in, hands pulling Jess' head closer rather than hitting him. "Who would have known you liked it rough," he smirked, kissing Dean still, feeling the other man's erection pressing up against him.
"Shut up!" his words had the undesirable effect of Dean shoving him off, even more violently then when they had been fighting. He stood up smoothly even as Dean scrambled to his feet.
Jess didn't say anything, standing there straightening his shirt as Dean looked everywhere but at him, playing with that ridiculous looking leather coat. He shook his head, stepping to walk past Dean, but this time the other man didn't stop him – at least not with physical actions. "Aren't you going to say something?" he didn't utter the words until Jess reached the exit to the sidewalk.
Turning back, he shrugged, "I thought I was supposed to 'shut up'. Learn what those words mean sometime."
"I'm not gay," Dean said defensively, and Jess shot a significant look at his crotch, whistling a Broadway tune. "I don't even like you."
"Neither am I," he replied with amusement, shaking his head. "And, neither do I."
Dean let out a bark of laughter, taking a step towards him, and for a moment Jess thought they might continue where they had left off. Except for the fact he knew Dean didn't have the metaphorical balls. "You know what?" Dean stopped a foot in front of him, hands shoved in his pockets – and when he leaned forward's Jess' breath stopped momentarily, but then he was pulling back, shaking his head, "You're not good enough for me either, in any way."
Stepping around, he was the one to walk out of the alleyway, Jess watching with interest.
Perhaps the boy had some semblance of wit after all.
It was during an argument over who was the best Darrin on Bewitched that he first snogged Angel – they tended to get a little bit too excited about meaningless things like that, and when the other man got up in his face, insisting that Dick Sargeant was the best man too hold down the role, Spike couldn't help but kiss him – the man's rather fortunate first name aside. Not that he got any experience with Angel's that day – his dick that was.
That was reserved for the first time Angel kissed him. Fighting together like the good old days – taking his hand like he had that first time in St.Petersburg, going from there. Defeating bad guys – not that Spike was limited to defeating bad guys normally, the adrenaline was pumping, and next thing he knew he was shoved against a sodding tree, the man's erection grinding into his arse.
No penetration on either part, and it was ten times better than sex with Buffy, and the two of them had done it with a house falling down around them.
The first time Spike fucked Angel was also the last. There would have been a second if only they could have managed to save the world that one last time. Apparently vampires didn't get to go to heaven (where he was sure there was unlimited sex) souls or not.
annearchy acoustics1220 *cough* - I knew at least enough to, uh, fake my way through (and yeah, Lindsey/Angel is SO not shippy as I have no idea of their dynamic never having seen Lindsey really on the show). And despite the fact it's been eons since I wrote anything in Gilmore Girls (well, it feels like it), and never at all with these characters - here are the snippets (drabbles?) of fics '
idea_of_sarcasm will never write':(feel free to comment on more if anyone's bored - I need something to entertain me, and real fic isn't working)
"Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Angel normally would have smirked in amusement when asking the question, but with the shock of seeing Lindsey, alive, and sitting on the couch in his apartment, he was lucky he could form something somewhat witty. He was hard to miss – considering the size of the place. Apparently saving the world in it's entirety barely earned you gratitude, let alone money. And Wolfram and Hart was a distant memory.
He was supposed to be dead. Lorne had guaranteed he was dead. He might have been useful in that last fight as a human shield, but there was still to high a possibility of being stabbed in the back. Literally and metaphorically. So, he'd had to go – and he was supposed to have been fucking gone.
But with all the strange things in his life, Angel didn't know why he was surprised to find the other man alive.
"A gun," Lindsey replied, standing up smoothly from the edge of the desk, pulling out the weapon and twirling it around on his finger almost absent-mindedly.
Angel watched in amusement, letting his fangs come out, "You realize that I'm somewhat impervious to bullets, in case that has somehow escaped your attention in, oh, ever."
He didn't even have time to react when Lindsey twirled in one last time, landing in the firing position as he squeezed the trigger – the gun exploding and bullet flying forward and lodging in Angel's chest. He also didn't even have time to react with more than an expression of slight dismay, before the world ceased to exist.
"Not when they're wooden bullets," Lindsey replied with a smirk, but the effect was lost. It just wasn't the same exchanging barbs with a big pile of dust.
Shrugging, he strode towards the door. There was still a demon waiting for an appointment with him. He wasn't even going to waste a weapon on that one. Brute physical force would be so much more entertaining.
"You're not good enough for her," Dean practically spat the words at Jess, shoving him against the wall outside Luke's diner.
It was a small variation on the argument that had started at school, the same fight that had got him suspended, and Dean with detention. How that equated to fair, he would never know, but he'd been raging against the 'system' practically since he was born – it only provided another excuse. That, and the way he'd had to bend to Luke's every whim in order for the man to allow him to stay – trying to maintain his pride all the while. Not an easy feat. He'd come close to telling his uncle to fuck off with every ranting lecture the man brought out, but the kicker was he didn't want to take off again. Not when he had no place else to go, Rory was really only the easy excuse. But, unlike the fight that had started with Jess accidentally bumping Dean into the lockers of Stars Hollows high, this time there was nobody there to break it up.
"And you were?" Jess's voice was incredulous, giving Dean a lazy once over, before shoving the other boy forcefully back, unable to simply stand there and take his shit. "You take too much interest in a girl who dumped you – for me – and trust me, hasn't given you a second thought since."
He was itching for Dean to take a swing, to give him an excuse to rearrange his pretty face the way he'd wanted to since the moment they'd met, and it was obvious the other boy was itching to lay a hand on him. But Opie apparently had a few untapped reserves of self-restraint because he stood there a few feet away, breathing heavily in his anger, his hands fisted at his sides rather than aiming for Jess' face.
"Fuck you Jess," he began, and Jess cut him off when he hesitated.
"Succinct as always Opie," he remarked, raising his eyebrows, "what a stunning vocabulary you have. I am very hurt at your words – I may have to go home and shed a few tears. Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage – that was Shakespeare, in case, no wait - since you've never had exposure to the man beyond watching DiCrapio 'act' out Romeo and Juliet."
Dean ignored his insults the way he always did, mostly because the other man had no retort. "When you break her, I'm going to be there to pick up the pieces. I'm always going to be there – when you take off, when you finally get sent to juvie, when she finally realizes she's going to be dating a high school drop out, when you finally reveal what an asshole you are – I'll be there."
"Pathetic," was all Jess said, dismissively, moving to step around Dean, although the other boy stepped over to the side, blocking his path out of the alley. "What? Do you really want to continue this conversation, stimulating though it is? If I didn't know better, I might think you liked my company."
Of course he didn't move. He'd been itching for a fight since he followed Jess into the alley while he was taking out the garbage, actually even probably since the day they'd properly met. Normally, Jess didn't oblige. "Move," he said bluntly, trying too side step him again, but this time not only did Dean block him, he raised his hands, shoving Jess hard against the wall, his head bouncing off the brick.
And then he was launching himself at Dean, fists flying, bodies hitting the ground, rolling around, skinned flesh bleeding, and broken noses – and all Jess could think about was how if Taylor saw this, if Lorelai saw this, if Miss Patty saw this, hell, if anyone saw this, he was done. Luke may care about him more than his own mother, but he didn't have unlimited reserves of patience. And then he obviously wasn't thinking at all because in the midst of the punches, his lips were all of a sudden fused to Dean's, kissing him in the rough angry way he could never do with Rory – the innocent and pure little girl.
Apparently he was going for broke – in addition to wanting to mess up that pretty face, he'd always wanted to kiss it. It wasn't that blatant stupidity was his turn on, he was more shallow than that. It was all about the looks. It was that same innocence that drew him to Rory, just begging to be spoiled – by him.
Dean's mouth was shocked and motionless beneath his, but then nobody was more shocked than Jess when he parted his lips wider, slipping his tongue in, hands pulling Jess' head closer rather than hitting him. "Who would have known you liked it rough," he smirked, kissing Dean still, feeling the other man's erection pressing up against him.
"Shut up!" his words had the undesirable effect of Dean shoving him off, even more violently then when they had been fighting. He stood up smoothly even as Dean scrambled to his feet.
Jess didn't say anything, standing there straightening his shirt as Dean looked everywhere but at him, playing with that ridiculous looking leather coat. He shook his head, stepping to walk past Dean, but this time the other man didn't stop him – at least not with physical actions. "Aren't you going to say something?" he didn't utter the words until Jess reached the exit to the sidewalk.
Turning back, he shrugged, "I thought I was supposed to 'shut up'. Learn what those words mean sometime."
"I'm not gay," Dean said defensively, and Jess shot a significant look at his crotch, whistling a Broadway tune. "I don't even like you."
"Neither am I," he replied with amusement, shaking his head. "And, neither do I."
Dean let out a bark of laughter, taking a step towards him, and for a moment Jess thought they might continue where they had left off. Except for the fact he knew Dean didn't have the metaphorical balls. "You know what?" Dean stopped a foot in front of him, hands shoved in his pockets – and when he leaned forward's Jess' breath stopped momentarily, but then he was pulling back, shaking his head, "You're not good enough for me either, in any way."
Stepping around, he was the one to walk out of the alleyway, Jess watching with interest.
Perhaps the boy had some semblance of wit after all.
It was during an argument over who was the best Darrin on Bewitched that he first snogged Angel – they tended to get a little bit too excited about meaningless things like that, and when the other man got up in his face, insisting that Dick Sargeant was the best man too hold down the role, Spike couldn't help but kiss him – the man's rather fortunate first name aside. Not that he got any experience with Angel's that day – his dick that was.
That was reserved for the first time Angel kissed him. Fighting together like the good old days – taking his hand like he had that first time in St.Petersburg, going from there. Defeating bad guys – not that Spike was limited to defeating bad guys normally, the adrenaline was pumping, and next thing he knew he was shoved against a sodding tree, the man's erection grinding into his arse.
No penetration on either part, and it was ten times better than sex with Buffy, and the two of them had done it with a house falling down around them.
The first time Spike fucked Angel was also the last. There would have been a second if only they could have managed to save the world that one last time. Apparently vampires didn't get to go to heaven (where he was sure there was unlimited sex) souls or not.