Random - Victory

(no subject)

Title: Gryffindor Courage does not come in bottles labeled, "Firewhiskey"
Fandom: Harry Potter
Wordcount: 449

Peter sat as still as a statue, tense to the bone.
He wasn’t sure whether he was more terrified of having to ask Amanda Locking to the dance or  whatever it is that his friends were planning as they huddled, Remus included, in the far corner of the room, throwing him a glance every now and then.

“He just needs a bit of courage, not a bloody campaign for Prime Minister!” Sirius words were accompanied by James shoving him into Remus.

”Like slipping her Love potion is any better!”

“Who knows, maybe she likes him  too and just needs a little push!”

“U-uh guys?” Peter’s voice was merely a squeak as the two raven haired boys continued their conversation, the werewolf now leaning casually against the wall with an amused expression on his face.

“You do know there are potions for courage right? Non-lethal ones?” Both boys stopped squabbling, staring blank faced at the Prefect for a full second before breaking out into grins.

“Moony, you’re a genius!” Sirius ruffled his hair before the scarred teen could dodge away.

”Well you’re obviously not, Pads! And was mentioning non-lethal entirely necessary? We know better than to kill Wormtail.” James had quickly crossed the room, rummaging through his bedside table drawer, pulling out the Marauder's map with triumph.

“Yeah, even if it might get him laid for once.” Winking at the shorter boy, Sirius sidled up to his partner in crime.

Peter wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, but was glad that they weren’t planning on playing with his life. Tonight.
Still, the idea of sneaking into the Potions room, which was now more guarded than usual after their last prank, made his stomach a little queasy.
”Look, guys. W-we don’t need to sneak into the Potion-“ His protest was cut short by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

”Wormtail, who said anything about the Potions room?” James’ grin was sly as he steered his friend to the door.

“Well, he was about to. But that aside, we don’t need to make a courage potion. Not when there’s a perfectly good one in the kitchen.” Sirius tossed an arm around Peter’s shoulder.

”Gryffindor courage in a bottle.” Remus chimed in as he closed the door behind them.

The next day, while sitting through a double detention with Slughorn, they all agreed it was totally worth it, if not for hearing Wormtail trying to serenade Amanda from a broom outside her window, then watching him try to fly away from the professor and bang three times into the Ravenclaw tower eliciting screams from once-slumbering girls.

Peter kept to himself, head bent low, face bright red as he tried to ignore them and work on his lines 'Gryffindor Courage does not come in bottles labeled, "Firewhiskey" '

Random - Victory

(no subject)

Title: Why We're Always In The Kitchen
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Lucifer/Sam
Word count: 673
Warning: Uh, blowjobs, swearing and ..No, that's it.
Author's note: This is based of my character in the Bad Moon Rising rp on Tumblr. I play Lucifer, but I wrote this in Sam's POV?
Yeah, I won't ask if you don't.
Consider this a shameless plug, but we're always looking for new members~
Hell, we even like it when people just drop by to say hi.


Sam sat on the counter, head leaning back against the cupboard behind him, soft pants and low moans escaping past his wet and kiss-bruised lips.
He's got a hand buried in the angel's hair, tightening the grip every time teeth lightly scrapes sensitive skin or he sucks with  just the right amount of pressure.
He's pretty sure Lucifer doesn't even notice his hand, only reacting to the moans and hitching of Sam's breath with a hum.

And when he hums? Fuck, but Sam's is 100 percent sure he's using his Grace, because he feels it going right through him, body and soul. His hips make an attempt to buck up, to go deeper, but Lucifer won't have that, a hand keeping his hips down with a near painful hold.
The Devil hadn't liked it when Sam had thrust up earlier, purely on instinct when the hot, yet somehow still cold, and wet mouth took him in.

He also hadn't liked the mark Dean had left on his hip, sucking and biting around the skin till the 'D' was lost in angry red marks. That was after he'd kissed the not quite healed cut, Grace making Lucifer's lips tingle as he healed the skin.
The Fallen angel could be confusing at times and frustrating at others, but Sam was sure that Lucifer actually cared about him, would bet his soul on it.

A dirty, needy noise breaks free from him as Lucifer sucks on the head, his tongue teasing the slit and God does he learn fast!
Sam pants as the pleasure builds up more, indescribable heat, coming from somewhere deep within, pooling at the bass of his spine.
They've been at this for a good 10 minutes now, Lucifer licking, sucking, kissing, tasting his dick like it's something precious, that it holds some kind of answer to an impossible question.
Sam's not sure if he's always like this, savouring and enjoying every little aspect of the things he likes, or if Dean taught him how to drag it out, while keeping him on the edge like this, teasing him till he nearly begged for it.
He isn't sure which thought he likes best.

Lucifer uses his Grace again, tongue burning hot with it, causing Sam to hiss out in pleasure "Oh Go-Nggh!"
The angel is also pretty good at preventing his father's name from being spoken in vain during sex, going down on Sam till he hits the back of his throat and slips beyond.
He's at a temporary loss for any coherent words as he clutches at the soft blond hair.

Sam starts up a chant of the Morning Star's name, earning himself another sinful hum as Lucifer bobs up, sucking like he's afraid to let go, and down, all tongue and wetness.
It's a perfect balance of want and lust. Or maybe just lust, quite frankly Sam doesn't care.
It's hot, it's good and Jesus, but he's probably getting one of the best blowjobs in his life from the Devil and that thought is just turning him on even more.

His hips thrust up, he can't help it, not when he's this close, almost like he's walking a tightrope on the edge and fuck, Lucifer just moved his hand and let him, let's Sam thrust and buck and drive so deep into the willing mouth that's it's no wonder he's crying out his name.
Hips off the counter, hand pushing the Devil's head down more, as something is set off inside him, like a small nuke, the heat overwhelming and scorching him inside out till he's a shaking, trembling mess that can only grin.
It was good, so fucking good, and he tries to convey this to Lucifer by patting his head, forcing his eyes open, because they seemed to have closed at some point.

When he focuses, it's on Lucifer licking his lips and looking somewhat startled and more thoughtful than one should be with cum dripping down their chin like that.
Sam's sure he's going to Hell, tugging at the angel's shirt till he gets the hint and leans in for the kiss, but atleast he'll be in excellent company.

Random - Victory

Premium Entertainment Dean/Gabriel

Title: Premium Entertainment
Pairing: Dean/Gabriel
Rating: T or R for mention of man-parts and the occasional swear word. (Because I have actually no clue about ratings)
Warning: Nothing you haven’t done before, I’m sure.
Word count: 2602
Author’s note: For the record, I haven’t actually seen Hammer of the Gods and I probably fudged the time line, but I wasn’t going for accurate so if you’ve got a complaint, suck it, because I’ve actually finished a fic for once and am too happy to give a damn.

This is also not beta'd.

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The first time he finds a DVD is just after they ganked the Trickster.

They had just cleared out their motel room and while Sam was saying his goodbye to Bobby, Dean decided to check his baby over one last time, making sure she was in top condition.
It was sitting on the dashboard, looking all innocent and totally out of place.
He picked it up, about to complain to Sam about him leaving his junk all over the place when the title caught his eye.
And yeah, so he didn’t know his brother liked busty blonde babysitters.
He kind of hoped it wasn’t Sammy’s favourite DVD, as he slipped it into his jacket.

Dean didn’t watch until a week later, when Sam was out terrorizing a library for information on some Satanic ritual.
He pressed play and leaned back against the headboard, grinning as he saw a scantily clad brunette opening the door to an even more under-dressed blonde. Two minutes in and his eyebrows are in his hair line.
Dean had no clue Sam was into girl-on-girl action and there was no way he was giving this back.
And when the doorbell rings and he’s expecting another woman (‘Please be a red-head.’), it opens to reveal.
”What the Hell?” He leans forward, eyes narrowed on the TV while the Trickster seemingly smirks at him through the screen, before joining the two ladies on the couch.
Dean turns it off, his heart pounding heavily in his chest and buries the DVD at the bottom of his bag, not quite sure why he didn’t just through it out.

He watches it two days later, from end to finish. And fuck, but he shouldn’t be this turned on, not when his eyes were constantly fixed on the Trickster. Because, you know, he just wanted to make sure it was actually him. Yeah.
And if he’s more than a little irratable when his brother comes back, Sam doesn’t say anything.

Dean’s almost forgotten about it, but not really because the DVD is still in his bag, not that he’s watched it since.
They’re in some small town in Florida, checking out something called a Mystery Spot when Sam starts going crazy. Or maybe Dean did, he’s not sure.
But when his baby brother is mimicking him perfectly, like mind-reading his every word, he feels a cold chill run up his spine.
Only, it turns out to all be some trick, that has him dying every single day, which is so not cool and that stupid Trickster is still alive.
And when Sam has him by the throat with a knife, Dean’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to do anything, because the guy just shot him a glance, all smirks and I-know-that-you-watched-it and he can’t breathe for a second or two.

The next day, after they’ve left town and Sam is more than a little quiet, Dean’s filling the tank of his baby in some dingy gas station.
He puts the gas hose back and when he turns back round, there on top the roof of the Impala is a DVD case.
Dean looks around wildly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bastard but knowing it’s useless. He shoves the DVD in his jacket, burying it in his bag later. He doesn’t watch it.

Almost a month later Dean lays down on his motel bed, having felt this clean in two days.
He’d been trudging through sewers, looking for bones, while Sam was up top fighting a ghost intent on killing a family of five off.
His brother was kind enough to give him the shower first and went off to get some pie. Fresh pie, Dean had demanded.
He’s staring at the ceiling, scratching his stomach lazily as he considers hitting the bar later, because he really needs to get laid. And his hand is now going lower, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Suddenly, getting off right now seems like the best idea ever and before he realizes it, he’s rummaging through the DVDs in his bag. Because there are now six of them, each one mysteriously popping up and no, he’s never watched them. Not after the first one.
But it’s like it’s the only option now, like the TV has no porn on demand, which it might, but Dean’s not looking, busy sliding the DVD in.
He wants to see him. That stupid smug grin and those stupid and not at all amazing eyes.

Dean’s too sated to hit the bar afterwards.

He thinks he’s starting to see a pattern. Every time they have a job and Dean gets a little close to a woman, there’s a DVD in or on his car. And if he doesn’t watch it the first chance he gets, another one appears when he has only seconds to hide it before Sammy sees.
Dean knows the Trickster is watching him now, knows he should be worried, or freaked a little by it. That maybe he should tell Sam.
Expect he doesn’t, except he finds it a kind of hot, wondering if the Trickster is watching while Dean strokes himself to climax as the man on the screen smiles right at him.

His favourite one is when it’s just the Trickster and a brunette. She spends a good ten minutes of it on her knees between his legs and Dean gets an eyeful of the man’s body slick with sweat and his face looking blissed and debauched.
And he’s looking right at the camera, right at Dean. And if he turns of the volume, he can imagines it’s his name on the Trickster’s lips when he comes and that in itself triggers Dean’s own orgasm. And it’s always so fucking good.

So when he loses it, he kind of freaks out, tearing through his bag like a mad man. He even goes through Sam’s.
And when his brother comes back, asking why their things are all over the room, Dean tells him he lost something important. And when Sam asks if he found it, he is so not holding back tears when he shakes his head, because it’s stupid. It’s just a damn DVD.

The next one arrives a week later, but Dean just glares at it. He feels like he’s somehow betrayed this thing they have going by having lost one.
Two days later, he’s kind of glad he hadn’t watched it, as Sam rams a wooden stake through the Trickster.
He lingers as he stares at the dead body on the warehouse floor, a painful pang in his chest making him bite his lip as he finally turns away.
It’s better this way, he tells himself.

Only it hadn’t ended and they were soon running through another show.
He didn’t want to admit it, not when it was starting to get really annoying, but it was kind of neat playing, around in some of these shows.
He´s also kind of worried about his idea, as he pulls holy oil out from Sam´s eh.. trunk.
What if this guy was an angel? What the hell was all those DVDs supposed to mean? Had it just been some trick to lure him to Heaven’s side? And why wasn’t he pissed about that idea?
His gut churned angrily and before Dean could even contemplate thinking about his feelings, and wouldn’t that be the day, their guest star answered his call.

Surrounded by a ring of fire Gabriel, Dean doesn’t want to think about how nice it is to have a name to go with the face, is telling them it’s their destiny, that they have no choice but to say yes.
And while he’s kind of glad that there’s no mention of the DVDs, no significant glances his way, he can’t help but shudder at the thought of being Michael’s parallel on Earth, that him and Sam will have to kill each other. No way and not gonna happen. He won’t let it.
As they go to leave, Dean knows he can’t leave him there trapped. He punches the sprinklers on, tries to ignore the way his stomach flips as Gabriel’s eyes hold a hint of hope.

He doesn’t get anything for another two months and when he does it’s a note that says to ‘watch it’. Dean doesn’t need clarification on what it means, but he pretends to be dumb and asks Sam if he wrote it.

After Ellen and Jo die, there’s less talking and more hunting. Dean is so tight wound that Sam eventually snaps at him and leaves to get his own room, the slamming of the door ringing in his ears some five minutes later still.
And then it’s quiet, no sound other than his breathing and he can’t stand it, knows the sound of Hellhounds are just in his head but can’t help needing to block it out with something, anything.
The DVD is sitting on top of his clothes, definetly not where he left it, but he doesn’t care, barely mumbles about stupid angels and slips it in.

He sits at the edge of his bed and watches. Watches Gabriel fuck a girl with such short, dirty blonde hair, that the meaning isn’t lost on him. Nor when he looks right at him, eyes nothing but black pupils and lust filled amber.
Dean closes his eyes, digging his fingernails into his leg so painfully hard, afraid he might just come in his pants otherwise.

He flicks the button of his jeans open, unzips and shimmies it down his hips far enough that he can pull his cock out and God, when he opens his eyes, Gabriel is licking his lips.
He runs his thumb over the head, shudders as Gabriel moans, sounding so dirty and wanton.
Dean fists himself, grip tight and near painful, but it feels so good, even more when he takes a fast pace, keeping up with Gabriel’s thrust.
”Dean.” And now he’s moaning, because Gabriel did not just say his name, no fucking way.
Expect he did, still is, with his head bent down, eyes screwed shut as he slams helplessly into the girl. His name’s a soft mantra and the heat boil up quicker than Dean’s ever felt it.
”I’d make it so good. Fuck you senseless, make you ache for days.” Gabriel whimpers and Dean moans, because yeah, that sounds good, sounds so good.

His own eyes shut, as he imagines it’s Gabriel’s hand stroking him with intent, that the smooth, wanting voice is whispering those words in his ear, promising him.
”You’d love it. Being pounded into the mattress, screaming as I take you.” The words go right to his dick, Dean’s chest is rising and sinking rapidly as the sensations take over, the orgasm slamming into him, exploding throughout his entire body as Gabriel’s name is pulled from his lungs.
His toes curl and his world blurs as he falls back and for a minute, he can imagine the softness of the bed is Gabriel’s chest and the warm, comforting feeling that’s wrapping around him is his arms.
Or maybe his wings, Dean thinks as clarity is starting to return and the edge of his mind catches a soft fluttering sound.

Dean didn’t get anymore DVDs after that, or notes for that matter.
He’s okay with that though, because Sam found the DVDs and raised an eyebrow at him. Dean was never more thankful that Gabriel had managed to not include himself on the front cover.

He ends up watching them at least once a week, not so much to help relive stress, but because each and every time, he’s sure Gabriel is actually there. Watching and biting his lip as he restrains himself from touching. Or that’s what Dean likes to think, anyway.
So he always put on a show, sometimes stripping completely and always spreading his legs so there’d be a good view.
In his mind, the next time they meet, he’ll push Gabriel up against a wall and kiss the breathe out of him. Find a room and make the archangel come true on his words.

Except, when he does meet Gabriel next, it was more than a little unexpected and the situation is far from ideal.

Oh, and Lucifer is in the building.
And then Gabriel is herding them out the door, out to safety while he stays behind.
And Dean can tell he’s trying his best not to look at him, but he can’t help not trying to get the archangel’s eyes, trying to see if he’s really serious, really about to take on his own brother, a being that even the Colt can’t kill. But the door closes and there’s a pit in Dean’s stomach that feels cold and unendingly deep.

Dean’s trying not to crying, putting on the Winchester’s famous devil-could-care-less face.
But it’s his Gabriel, his Trickster on that screen and it feels so familiar and so heartbreaking, because he knows this will be the last one he’ll ever get and it’s not his alone.
And then Gabriel looks away, he’s finished talking. Except he looks back and has the smallest, most genuine smile Dean’s ever seen and he says “I’m sorry.”
Sam looks puzzled, mentioning that he probably thinks the archangel meant for not being able to do more, to have succeeded.
But Dean knows the truth, knows that was his and only his.
That it was an apology for leaving, for dying without ever having made the promise come true. For making Dean fall in love with him.

When they check into the next motel, Dean sneaks out in the middle of the night.
He winds up in a deserted park, finding a secluded area and upturning the bag he brought with him. DVDs, his lighter and gasoline falls out.
It’s only a matter of time before there’s a fire burning, dead twigs quickly turning to ash as he watches and slowly, one by one tosses a DVD into the flames.
It’s not a goodbye, it’s not him letting Gabriel go, because Winchester’s never do that. Can’t.
It’s his own promise, he thinks, fingers running over the remaining one, the last one Gabriel sent for him alone.
He tucks it into his jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks at the fire without seeing it, he won’t think or look at the DVD, at Gabriel. Not till he’s been avenged, till this whole Apocalypse has been averted, till the world resembles it’s usual brand of crazy.
And maybe, maybe he’ll pray. Demand, ‘cause he’s sure as Hell not gonna ask God anything, not after all they’ve been through because of Him, that He fixes Sam up properly, that He don’t punish Cas for having a mind and Will of his own, that he brings Gabriel back.
Maybe, he thinks but not believing because he’s not that hopeful, never has been. Not really.
Random - Victory

HP Marauder era fic

So I hadn't really planned on writing anything, but reading a list of 'Things not to do at Hogwarts' a plot bunny saw fancy to one of them and bit me hard.

Title:The Giant Squid is not an appropriate date to the Yule Ball
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 450
Rating: The lowest on the list. Seriously, there's like one 'bad' word in it.
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing but the words.

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Castle - Esposito&Castle&Ryan

Catching up on Castle and..

Some jerk drops a grenade down on my boys!
My adorkable detectives!
How dare the killer do that!?

Having watched enough shows and movies that make use of explosives and grenades, my mind was, astonishingly, quick to note that it was a flashbang. And the fact that I have read spoilers and trade words with fellow detective slashers and none have given any note that they die, I knew they weren't going to kick the bucket on my TV.
Yet I still feared for Ryan and Esposito.

That's when you know the show is good. When watchers are sitting on the edge of their chair, biting their nails and yelling curses at their screens.

Well, gonna finish my episode and enojy the eye candy while I can ;) 

Random - Victory

Hawaii Five-O Powa Maka Moana. Or..

Who the hell uses a grenade to open a door?

Very awesome people, that's who.

I haven't really seen much of the original, but it was decent if you ignore the hairdos.
It really put Hawaii on the map for more than just a place to go on your honeymoon.
And the new take on the show? Explosively awesome, I'm sure many will agree.

In a nutshell, Steve McGarrett, Navy Seal returns to Hawaii for his father's funeral. The mayor leaves the invitation for McGarrett to run his own task force, carte blanche. He can basically blow shit up and get away with it. Well, considering he had good reason to blow it up.
Danny 'Danno'  Williams a Detective from Jersey who moved to Hawaii because his ex-wife remarried and relocated with their daughter, who is the world to him.
Chin Ho Kelly was HPD, losing his badge because he was thought to be corrupt. He got his badge back when he accepted Steve's offer and joined 5-0.
Kona 'Kono' Kalakaua is a rookie cop, not even properly graduated when she first helps 5-0 out. She's Chin's cousin.
Well, as the show goes you start to get the idea that she's cousin to half the island.

There are a few differences with the original series, besides the painfully obvious ones that Kono is now a girl and people are now better dressed and have proper hairstylists.
For one, McGarrett was former Navy and a Detective.
Danny, well, one episode he's a local boy and in another, he's from the mainland. Back then, shows didn't dwell much on backgrounds unless necessary.

The show is fast paced, action packed, has the necessary drama, the pretty people (I find myself tied between Grace Park and Alex O'Loughlin), the comedy, the realism, the beautiful Hawaii and so many ships just waiting to happen.
It's not even passed the first season and I find myself already re-watching episodes.

Although, that is mostly just for the sparkling conversations that take place in the Camaro (did I mention sweet rides in my list up there?), the moments of pure win when the bad guys get their beat down and the adorable moments that come with being ohana to what has to be the craziest Navy SEAL on the island.
I mean, seriously, a grenade!
Sure, the guy refused to open the door, but what was the grenade doing in Danny's car? He drives his daughter around in that, Steve!
That's another to love about this show; the chemistry between the characters, most notably Steve and Danno. Their bickering is just perfect. 

And to see how Steve, and on the odd occassion Danny, puts their suspects through the  mill. The proverbial one.
Because a mill is just too good for the bad guys when they say no or stay tight-lipped when questioned.
Being thrown off a rooftop didn't do so much as piss Danny off, but throwing somoene in a shark cage was pretty succesful.
Not to mention the really neat windswept look this dude's hair got after taking a ride on the hood of the Camaro.
Don't worry, he was perfectly safe. They'd tied him down.

If one thing, I'm jealous of this show.
The locations are gorgeous, Hawaii is such a photgenic place.
The blue waters, rich green forests and pretty men and women has my mouth watering.
I'd love to go there and film something myself. 
Now to think up a plot, pitch the idea and book my ticket.
Random - Victory

Fandom will never cease to amaze..

And humour me endlessly.

It's true and <b>you know it.</b>

Plus it really brings people together.

Think about how many people you wouldn't have on your friend/email/contact list if you didn't take that swim when the internet surf passed that really funny and kinky-making-out-in-the-closet story about those two guys and their now-not-so-secret love for robots.

Or that marshmallowly sweet story about a dad, his daughter and a big purple dinosaur.

Another thing about fandom that amazes me, is how I can decide to read just one post, a story and maybe stea- I mean, borrow some icons and suddenly it's 6 hours later, I've gone through half a reclist, my pc memory is now very stocked with icons I may never use and I've left a bunch of comments that I'd never even dream to say to someone in RL.

As they say, time flies when you're having fun.

A strange thing I've noticed is that people from one fandom, tend to be part of another and another.

I'm not saying it's illegal to have more than one (though I think some of the stories/posts might be) but it's interesting how one show about people stuck in another galaxy has the same fans as a show of cops on a tropical island.

Maybe it's the great plots. Or the pretty men and women.

Or both.

Yeah, definitely both.

Plus, quite a few people are quite open minded when it comes to TV show genres.

As long as it's entertaining, right?

But it's pretty cool.

I mean, I've met <i>dozens</i> of people, connected and enjoyed random chats all because of some common love for a show or character.

It's the true definition of 'Fans unite!' not that anyone is screaming that at conventions these days. Unless a certain character is about to/has been killed. Or we want a certain plot/style/theme back. Or we just want our damn show on DVD.

Nah, we should unite to fangirl/boy and gush lovingly/discuss heatedly about our fandoms <b>on a weekly basis!</b>
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Random - Victory

Writer's Block: Everyday I write the book

If you were to write your autobiography, what would be the title?

I Don't Want To Not.

I have so many things going on and more that I want to do. It's like I'm the eternal procrastinator.
I want to, really, but I just can't.. I mean, it's not like I lack motivation. I'm really pumped to go out there and start things. I just can't wrap myself around them, can't bite into it because there's bullet proof glass in between me and my wants.
It's like I'm purposely, subconciously, fucking myself over.

...That'd be a cool title too. 
Random - Victory

Should I be ashamed?

I watch a few shows, usually on TV, mostly on DVD.
A lot of the time it's series I've never seen before, or a few years back I caught an episode or two.
Just adding some variety to my life, which is rather mundane, if you ask me.

So what's the problem with watching a bunch of random shows?
Well, during the show, absolutely nothing. Unless it's a bad show of course, then I'll be wondering why I wasted my time and God forbid if it's a DVD, my money.
Nope, the problem comes after, or in between episodes.
Pairings.And I'm using this term very generally,
Because my mind will, and shall, pair anyone with everyone.

Well, okay, even I have my limits, but that too is pretty limited.
I mean, if the characters are really that incompatible, then I will allow myself to cringe if I ever see a ficlet about them.
But really, not even taboos or everyday norm can stop my mind from sinking further into the gutter.

Even if I should be ashamed of this, I realize that I won't change. I mean, why should I?
I enjoy the entertaining dives my mind takes into the gutter and it's not like I'm bothering anyone with it.
One could see it as a temporary escape from the real world, to a place where people can live, weep, enjoy and hate their life under the most dire, perfect or trying circumstances.
Sure, it's like real life too, but it's with people you love to read about. Atleast, that's the idea, I don't see why you'd read it otherwise

So, really, it doesn't matter if I should be ashamed, I guess.

Pointless journal is pointless.

But then again, like I ever post a journal really worth reading  ^^;
Random - Victory

That time already?

I've made it a bad habit to go to bed really late.
I don't know why I- No, I do know why.
I'm the nocturnal kind of person, I thrive when the sun goes down. Well, not exactly. I mean, is sitting behind your PC considered as thriving behaviour?

And it's not so bad that I go to bed late, not at all. I've been doing that for years.
It's just that recently, I've been getting up really early. Early when you think about the time I got to bed anyway.

A standard day, this week, starts at 6-6:30 and ends round about midnight or, more commonly, 1AM.
The sad part is, I have no trouble getting out of bed these days, I practically jump out then jump back in once I register just hold cold it is.
It's then, during the day, sitting behind the computah that my eyes go hazy, I get headaches and I really promise myself that tonight, yes, tonight I'll be asleep by 10PM.
Nuhuh. Never happens.

I tried yesterday, came home at &, ate dinner, lazed on the couch for an hour and when asked if I wanted to watch a film, I say "Nay! I'm checking out early tonight!"
My mother puts on the film and two hours later, I find myself still on teh couch, watching the credits roll by while I'm typing away on the laptop.
Two hours later,  get a sock thrown at my head and a harsh whisper of "Go to bed!" because apparently some people can't sleep when a light's on.
Even if the light is but a lamp and there's a set of stairs and two doors in between. Oh, and her eyes are closed.
That's what I call a problem.
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