comma_chameleon: (Default)
Oh my goood. I'm a failure. :[ I spent so much time cleaning and getting ready for [personal profile] telltale_commas arrival and then she was HERE that I forgot to write this completely.

Which means she wins April by default and I suck. XD

Sadly she is back in her home and I am sad and alone--and half to return to work tomorrow, boooooo. Though at least we had a good time.

~*~*~

APRIL



Featuring: Tavish Kerr III, Aaron Evans
Word Count: 577


~*~*~


8:32am

It was pointless to look at his watch yet again, but AJ couldn’t seem to help himself. Already thirty-two minutes late and he was still half an hour away from his agent’s office. The one time he drove himself and the car got a flat.

“Shit.”

He wasn't stupid, he was pretty sure he could change the tire himself, but there was no manual in the glovebox and for the life of him he couldn’t find where the manufacturers had hidden the car’s tire jack.

“Why don’t they label the damn compartment? Because that would make sense. And be helpful.”

“Are you talking to your car?”

The sudden voice had AJ jumping in surprise, hitting his head off the underside of the steering wheel and leaving him cursing.

“Ah… sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

It was a very nice voice, and when the spots finally cleared from his vision AJ was treated to the view of an equally nice looking man. He’d never been a fan of random hair colours, but somehow long rainbow-coloured hair seemed to suit this man. It seemed to move with a life of its own in the strong afternoon wind and AJ had to force his attention away from soft looking strands and back onto the throbbing in the back of his head.

“I’m fine. I think. Well, I’m really late and I’ll definitely have a bruise, but I think I’ll survive.”

That earned him a smile and AJ had a very brief moment where he seriously considered skipping his meeting and doing his best to get this man into the backseat of his car. He wouldn’t need to change the tire for that.

“Do you need help? I’m not a mechanic or anything, but I think between the two of us we could probably manage to change a flat. I’m Tav by the way.”

“Aaron. AJ. Either is fine. And yes, help would be great. I’m rather uselessly trying to find the damn jack.”

“Ah. That would be where I came in. With you talking to your car.” Dark eyes crinkled at the corners as Tav smiled. “It’s usually with the spare, isn’t it?”

AJ liked to think that the embarrassed flush that overtook him could be blamed on the summer heat, and he was grateful when the other man said nothing as he got to his feet. Opening the door to the boot and lifting the cover that hid the spare from view, AJ spotted the jack nestled next to it.

“Well… that’s embarrassing.”

“I’m sure everyone’s done something similar,” Tav said from behind him. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand and you’ll be done in no time.”

There was something in his inflection that made AJ cast a glance towards him as he lifted the jack and tire free, but Tav had already moved to the depressingly flat tire. He wanted to say something, but propositioning strangers wasn’t exactly something he was in the habit of doing.

Until dark eyes looked up from beneath a rainbow fringe and the look Tav was giving him was unmistakable and hot.

He looked away, but only to look down at his watch.

8:53am.

Pulling his phone from his pocket he dialed his agent’s number with nimble taps of his finger.

“Hey, Josh… I’m really sorry, but can we reschedule? I’ve got a flat and I’ll probably be a while. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got someone giving me a hand…”

~*~*~


Back to September
comma_chameleon: (Jin is usually invalid.)
So I have been absolute shit at doing ANYTHING outside of work this month (which has been a mess of spreadsheets, meetings, emotional vampirism, negativity, and me having the growing urge to play dumb so that I stop getting put in charge of things...).

Which is why it's four days to the end of the month and I only have ONE headcanon finished and [personal profile] telltale_commas gets here in THREE DAYS AHHHHHH and I am still cleaning my apartment because I keep getting distracted by shiny objects (and naps).

Whoops. >.>

Also yes, I used to suck at naming, but then I got attached to the character with that name and couldn't rename him. I'M SORRY. Sort of.

~*~*~

SEPTEMBER



Featuring: Cillian Catherwood, Makoto Nanami
Word Count: 357


~*~*~


It’s nearly a ritual by now.

Blood runs pink down the drain as the shower falls hot over their skin, but that’s not what Makoto’s focused on. He’s used to the blood, and when he knows that Cillian’s not bearing anything more than surface scrapes and heavy bruising, it’s easy to push from his mind.

Instead his focus is on dark ink and the contrast it creates against pale skin. He can faintly taste the salt of Cillian’s skin through hot water as his tongue traces the delicate black lines that decorate Cillian’s freckled back.

Yggdrasil. The tree of life.

He tastes each line like he can feel Cillian’s pulse running through them. Their life is dangerous, but that’s why he knows the tattoo means so much to the other man. It’s a reminder. It’s a caution. And it’s hope.

A shudder ripples through Cillian as the coarseness of his goatee rubs against skin made sensitive by a combination of adrenalin and the heat of the shower. The involuntary motion has Makoto smiling and repeating the press of his chin against Cillian’s back.

It’s always cute how such a small thing can be a turn on. Maybe it’s sensory overload from their recent firefight, but Makoto doesn’t mind. Not when he knows it’s not the only time Cillian is eager for his touch.

Licking a lazy path downwards, Makoto smiles a little wider at the tension he can feel where his hands rest on Cillian’s waist. It’s the best kind of tension. A quiver of muscles. A show of restraint. It’s easy enough to tell that Cillian wants to move, but knows that it will be much more enjoyable if he doesn’t. The fight between want and instinct would have him whining—or maybe even begging—if he could make any sound at all.

Makoto doesn't need the sounds. He can read Cillian’s body like it’s talking to him directly and he doesn’t hesitate before dropping to his knees onto the slick tile floor, mouth never leaving Cillian’s skin.

They have their own kind of after care.

It’s not like anyone else’s, but it’s right for them.


~*~*~


Back to March
comma_chameleon: (Innocent Ariel)
August has been terribly unproductive for me. I don't know what it is. I've pretty much done nothing but go to work, go to the gym, and watch The Mentalist and Teen Wolf.

But, happy birthday to my other half [personal profile] telltale_commas! Slowly creeping up there in age, though always younger than me as some people like to remind me...

~*~*~

MARCH



Featuring: Christopher Larkin, Matthew Nanami
Word Count: 603


~*~*~


Chris was still getting used to it all, even after all this time. He knew what he was—had since he was four and he’d accidentally made his mother’s vines grow so fast and so large that they’d nearly encompassed the entire house.

Knowing there was more than just him out there though… that was a whole different story. Matt and his family were like them, but not. Fae blood was dominant, but most people with it were only part. Mongrels to real fae. Which meant any ‘gifts’ usually manifested in ways that the person wasn’t even fully cognizant about.

An affinity for animals.

A mildly healing touch.

Weather prediction.

Matt’s family was the purest in London. Probably in all of England.

Matt himself could control the weather.

Chris couldn’t even begin to know what that must be like to have that much power. And yet somehow he wasn’t afraid of the Nanamis. Despite their powers. Despite what they could do… they were nice people. Good people.

Nicer than most people were to Chris and it was comforting. Not just to be with someone who understood, but also to be with someone who cared and understood. Sometimes it had felt like he’d had to choose one or the other, and now here was Matt.

“What are you thinking so deeply about? I could make it hail and you’d probably still be sitting there staring at your lunch.”

Chris smiled at Matt’s playful words. “You wouldn’t make it hail. Not when we’re sitting out in the middle of a field. It’d ruin your clothes.”

“And my hair,” Matt agreed as he reached into the picnic basket for another sandwich, taking a bite before speaking again. “But you’re evading.”

Biting into his own half eaten sandwich to avoid answering right away, Chris could feel his cheeks heating up. Matt remained silent as he chewed slowly, but Chris knew he’d have to answer eventually.

“I was just thinking about your family.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but Chris already felt more than a little embarrassed to be waxing on so emotionally about Matt’s family, even if it was just inside his own head. The idea of saying it out loud seemed a million times worse.

Matt said nothing, just watched him with a calm expression. Chris knew it was a tactic—probably learned from his father—and huffed. “Stop trying to mind control me into embarrassing myself.”

“It’s not mind control. I control weather, not minds.”

“Fine. Stop using psychological warfare on me, then,” Chris said, rolling his eyes at the same time. He smiled though, because he knew deep down that Matt wouldn’t force him to say anything he didn’t really want to say. “I was just thinking… that it must have been really nice to grow up around people who understood you. Who loved you for who you were.”

“Your parents love you,” Matt frowned, setting down his sandwich to reach for Chris’ hand. “How could they not?”

Chris immediately felt a wave of shame. “Of course they did—do, I never meant that. But I was—am different and that had to have been hard on them.”

“Everyone’s different, Chris… and people should still love them despite those differences.”

It sounded so simple, but Chris knew how hard it was for some people to accept differences in others. It made him even more grateful for how his parents had stood by him, and for the fact that he’d met Matt and his family.

Being alone was one thing. Being alone and different was another thing entirely.

Suddenly he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

~*~*~


Back to August
comma_chameleon: (Default)
What theeeee... so, somehow we managed to have almost identical alternate universes for our headcanons this month.

Though considering how often our thoughts align, I suppose I should be surprised it hadn't happened sooner.


~*~*~

AUGUST



Featuring: Katsu Chou, Aiya Nakahara
Word Count: 342


~*~*~


“… am I dead?”

“Would you like to be?”

Brown eyes close and Katsu sighs. There’s no answer and now he’s left staring down at the samurai who’s been bleeding profusely all over his lovely white snow. Quite rude, really. Pretty, while it’s fresh, but soon it will darken and change and Katsu hates that.

Crouching down, the folds of his kimono shush softly on the hard surface of compacted and crisp snow. He can save the man. He’s capable of it. Does he want to though? A part of him does. A part of him knows that he’s more attached than he should be. Demons don’t do attachments, and yet here he is. Attached.

Why else would he have followed the man’s encampment for months as they made their way through the valleys and peaks of his mountain range? Protected him—them—from harsh storms and even an avalanche. It’s not what he does; he knows the stories about his type. But he did. He couldn’t even seem to help it.

The man’s skin is only barely warm as he brushes cool fingers across his brow. He knows doesn’t have much time to decide. If he waits too long the man will die from the cold long before he bleeds out.

“What have you done to me?” he murmurs softly, even as he places his palm flat on the man’s bleeding belly. The blood is only slightly warm under his skin. The surrounding air has cooled it almost as soon as it spilled from sword split skin. “I’m not the healing type… and yet here I am, doing just that.”

It’s a strange feeling, healing something. He can feel the rush of his magic leaving his body and working it’s way into the other man’s. He’s never done this before and now he knows why. It’s changing the man, not just healing him.

He can’t regret it, but he wonders if the man will. His life won’t ever be the same and that can be a hard thing to live with.

~*~*~


Back to February
comma_chameleon: (Default)
AH! So, it didn't really feel real until now. I'm kind of glad I've been in a meeting all week or I'm sure I would have been freaking out about it.

You can find it here: Less Than Three Press * All Romance eBooks * Amazon.ca * Amazon.com * Kobo!

Also, thanks again to Charlie Cochet, Kim Fielding, and Raine O'Tierney for hosting me on my mini blog tour!

Purple Rose Teahouse - July 2nd

K. Fielding Writes - July 9th

Raine O'Tierney's Hat Party - July 22nd

In other AWESOME news, my better half [personal profile] telltale_commas and I got tickets to see ONE OK ROCK on October 1st, AND I am going to see Welcome to Night Vale live on October 26th! (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧ What better way to celebrate my birthday?
comma_chameleon: (Default)
LATE. And hopefully not stupid. But it's not my fault that we managed make an AU pairing canon. >.>



~*~*~

JULY



Featuring: Christopher Larkin, Shizuka Inoue
Word Count: 585


~*~*~


I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

It’s all Chris is thinking right then. A repeated litany of those three words over and over again as he makes his way gingerly to the bar counter.

The strip club isn’t really sleazy. As far as strip clubs go in fact, it’s pretty decent—not that he’s been in a lot. But it’s dimly lit, the seats too close together, and full of strangers. All things that Chris really isn’t a fan of.

The nudity certainly doesn’t help. He’s not quite sure where to keep his gaze.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

It’s like an echo now, even though he’s reached the bar. He can almost see the words looping in his brain. He can’t shut them down, and he’s not sure he wants to. It’s Brian’s fault they’re here and it’s Brian’s fault he’s now alone.

If he’d just wanted to score, Chris is sure he could have done that on campus, a thought that helps fuel his anger a little.

“Drink?”

The voice is unexpected and Chris flinches. He really should be more aware of his surroundings right now. Not lost in his own useless thoughts.

Full lips are smiling at him when he manages to rein in his buzzing brain, and dark eyes are glittering with something he can’t quite read. Maybe he’s thinking too much. After all, the man is just a bartender, he’s probably just exasperated because Chris is staring at him like a slack-jawed carp.

“Um… do… do you have s-something non-alchoholic?”

That smile widens just a fraction. Chris blushes. A smile shouldn’t make him blush, but well… he’s never really been normal.

“Water or soda? Or I can make some coffee or tea.”

“Water’s fine.” He forces the words out in a rush. Doing his best not to stutter or mess them up. He doesn’t have a lot of cash on him or he would have walked out and taken a cab home as soon as Brian had abandoned him for one of the strippers.

The I hate you’s are starting to fade away. Just a tiny bit. That smile is still directed at him, and Chris looks away. It’s too kind for a place like this and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

A bottle of water is set in front of him and Chris is surprised by how relieved he feels that it’s sealed.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

Chris laughs, but it’s high and nervous. He’s not sure what to say that won’t be insulting to someone who works here, so he remains silent and reaches for the water instead.

“You want me to call someone for you?”

The words are unexpected and it forces Chris to look back into dark eyes. The smile is gone now and he isn’t sure if he should feel bad for making it disappear.

“Y… you w-wouldn’t mind?”

“Gorgeous, I’d do just about anything you asked me to.”

“A ph-phone c-call is f-fine,” Chris manages to say, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Obviously flirting is part of the man’s job, but it still feels strange to have it directed at him.

“Shame.”

He’s handed a cordless phone though, and Chris doesn’t think twice before dialing Ryo’s number.

That litany of hate is gone now, and as the phone rings, he can’t help but look over at the man who’s now pouring a beer for someone else. He’s definitely cute.


~*~*~


Back to January

NEWS NEWS NEWS!

2015-Apr-17, Friday 09:51 pm
comma_chameleon: (Default)
And not the J-Pop variety, though I am loving their new album. :3

Playing the Lines finally has a release date of July 22, 2015!

It can be found here!



Photographer Elliot is near the top of his field and loves his work, even if it means putting up with models like Cory: beautiful, egotistical, and aggravating. Then a photoshoot in Norway shows there's more to Cory than Elliot thought, and he agrees to dinner despite himself.

But even if he's not completely a brat, it's well known Cory prefers to play rather than settle. And Elliot isn't interested in being anyone's toy—no matter how persuasive and persistent Cory proves to be.
comma_chameleon: (Default)
Oh my god. It's been nearly ten months since I drabbled. What the hell, Sarah? On the upside I have still been writing. I submitted something for Goodread's M/M Community's Love's Landscapes short story prompt claim which will be posted soon, so I'll definitely link that as soon as it goes up.

I also submitted something for a short story anthology, so... fingers crossed there too.

Until then, hopefully I get back into the swing of drabbling!

Back into the swing of things... hopefully. )
comma_chameleon: (Default)
Working on a new submission! Nothing shall keep me down~.

Here, have some all-over-the-place drabbles! XD

here a little, there a little... )
comma_chameleon: (Default)
Sooo... finished my secret story and got my first ~official rejection~ letter, but yay for [personal profile] telltale_commas for being chosen! :DD

Also finished one of my classes for work-bridging, just waiting on my final exam results to see if I passed. :)

Back to drabbling for now!


getting back into the swing of things~ )
comma_chameleon: (Default)
Wooooo... okay, on time this week, even though I took an unscheduled break last week, sorry! XD

And... this one has a four-parter. XD I blame [personal profile] telltale_commas .


lots of shmoop... )

Profile

comma_chameleon: (Default)
comma_chameleon

October 2015

S M T W T F S
    123
45 678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated 2017-Jul-21, Friday 02:42 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios