(Untitled)
HELLO, FLIST AND UNKNOWN STALKERS
So it's come to my attention that I have not given out a single Valentine yet today. I do have two plans for gifts for my girlfriend and girlfriend-in-law, but those probably won't be finished for a little while longer.
To make up for this, I've decided to host a
FUCKED-UP LOVE MEMESee, I'm bad at things ( Read more... )
So it's come to my attention that I have not given out a single Valentine yet today. I do have two plans for gifts for my girlfriend and girlfriend-in-law, but those probably won't be finished for a little while longer.
To make up for this, I've decided to host a
FUCKED-UP LOVE MEMESee, I'm bad at things ( Read more... )
1. killer!andrew/killer!jesse
2. domestic!vampire!brendonsandspencers
3. korse/party poison
4. hookerfic anything
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He can put on the skirts, the makeup, the wig, but there’s no way to disguise his voice. So when he’s with the other girls, if they try to talk to him, he gestures at his throat and frowns, and they nod and apologize.
But they don’t stop talking. People have a funny way of talking to mutes when given the chance-probably because there’s nothing stopping them. They talk and talk and talk, about their childhoods, about their parents, anything but the present. Brendon nods and gestures for them to continue whenever they stop. He listens. He wonders if any of them have anyone else to listen.
He doubts it. There’s never a happy story to be heard on the streets, only sick children, cruel husbands, burned buildings, war wounds. They don’t want to be here any more than Brendon does. But they all have a job to do.
“You’re so sad,” he whispers, one hand wrapped around her throat, the other cupping her cheek. “I’m going to make it better ( ... )
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"Someone will, believe me. Now stop drinking and make her forget, I'm calling a cab."
Brendon pouts, but it doesn't seem to work any better on Spencer than it does on William or Carden, so he sighs and starts to coax the girl into opening her eyes while Spencer starts punching numbers into his cell phone.
"Hey," he says quietly, locking eyes with her the first chance he gets, "Pay attention. You're gonna forget everything that happened tonight, okay?" Her jaw's slack, her eyes not quiet focused, but he can see her nod. "Good. Now--"
"Could you get her address? She needs somewhere to go."
"Yeah, okay," he mumbles, not breaking eye contact. "Where do you live?"
Once they've gotten her in the cab--a little confused but functional enough to walk to her apartment--they decide to head home.
"What was that?"
Spencer looks at him, eyebrow raised.
"I mean, yeah, if you really don't want to kill humans, fine, but you gave her cab fare?"Humans pay for ( ... )
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