you don't own me

‘ Are you trying to scare me? ’ Clark raises an eyebrow, challenging the other man silently. Clark’s been through too much shit with the walkers to care about what Baz could ever do to him. ‘ You probably don’t have the guts to do anything anyway. I reckon you’re all bark and no bite. ’

♱ | open

       “ i’m not saying i was in a band in my younger days, but… i cannot deny it either.  ”

‘ sure thing, gramps. ’ the last thing alex is going to do is believe that giles was anything other than the stuffy old librarian he’s always known. he’d rather not sit and make small talk with the watcher when there are vampires out there that need to be staked.

‘ can we ease up on the formalities and get back to what we were doin’?’

open to: m / f / nb | prompt: your muse is a hunter, and artemis definitely took interest. just don’t piss her off. 

✧ ༺ ♛ ༻ ∞ ❝I MUST SAY, YOU have good hunting skills. you’ve got the agility, accuracy, and reflexes.❞ it’s not often that the goddess of the hunt meets a fascinating human being, the praises seldom coming from her —- it’s definitely a huge honor to receive a compliment from her. the last time she had encountered someone who’d impressed her had been a few millenniums ago. ❝you have the potential. you can do better.❞ 

alex isn’t sure whether the back-handed compliment is welcome, he just stares at the woman. you can do better -- what is that supposed to mean?

he raises an eyebrow and lowers the crossbow in his hands so he can give the stranger his full attention. ‘ good? ’ he asks. ‘ just good? ’ he’s really not impressed, considering he’s spent the majority of his life hunting - and not just animals either, but those of the supernatural type. what did this woman know about hunting?

‘ and what experience have you got? ’

Cecily looked up from her phone and nodded when he asked if she wrote the book. “Yep I did,” she answered with a nod, throwing her phone back into her bag. 

She still couldn’t believe that people are reading her book-and also keep asking when she was going to write more of the book. Book two is in the works right now, but she was on a writer’s block and couldn’t write anything other than her advice column.. 

“Thank you-hey, would you like for me to sign it?” she asked. Cecily had nothing else to do anyway and she didn’t want to head into the office anyway, as she started digging around for a pen.

‘Oh-- really? That would be awesome.’ Max GRINNED, unable to believe he was going to be getting A SIGNED COPY of a book. He’d never had anything like that before; even though he knew so many famous people. It’d not like be CARRIED AROUND books and CD’s with him to get signed when he went to red carpet events.

‘Do you have a pen?’ He asked. ‘Can you make it out to Max? That’s me.’

“Sure, decaf if you have it,” Castle requested, stepping into the room he hoped was the living room or that could be more awkward. He hated decaf coffee, but he was hyper enough without a caffeine rush and the sombre situation they were to discuss called for a more placid version of him. 

(Some would argue that didn’t exist.) 

While Noah busied himself in the kitchen – if the opening of presses and clanging of items was any indication – Castle’s natural nosiness got the better of him. He walked around the communal area, trying to guess what sort of person this man was by the way he lived. 

A picture on the mantle caught his attention, him and a woman. His wife, perhaps? Damn, he wished he could use his dictaphone. 

‘ I’ll see if I can find some. ’ Noah wasn’t sure if he had any decaf, he usually drank coffee purely for the stimulant rather than the taste but he was sure that there was some left over from when Sadie drank it. It would’ve been two years old but... what Castle didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

He went about making the drinks and wondered if it was wise to let Castle rummage around in his living room by himself. There were pictures of the girls, of Sadie, scan pictures of the baby he never got to meet... Would there be questions? Noah hoped not.

Two cups of coffee later (one decaf - thank you Sadie) and Noah was walking back into the living room, placing both cups on the coffee table and gesturing to one of the seats. ‘ Okay. What do you want to know? ’

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Castle insisted, with an air of offence that someone who had been asking the questions he had wasn’t that entitled to possess. He didn’t see what he did as romanticising murder and the other grisly topics he covered, but rather adding a laying of realism to his writing. He thought it was more respectful that way. 

(Maybe he was wrong.) 

Looking from Noah to the dictaphone, it was clear to him that he could easily snatch it from the leaner man stood before him, but he wasn’t that impolite. 

With a sigh, Castle agreed to the terms, moving to sit back down and not making another grab for his temporarily stolen property. 

“Okay, deal. I won’t record anymore, but if this is off the record,” 

He didn’t strictly have a record, but Noah didn’t need to know that. 

“Then I want to know everything.”

After Castle agreed to keep the dictaphone off, Noah handed it back to him. This had to be handled sensitively, or he’d be in deep trouble. It was probably bad enough that Castle had been practically assigned to him, but being recorded was much worse. Everything would be better off the record.

Noah put his hands on his hips, thinking about how much to tell the other man. He clenched his jaw and frowned as he thought, unsure how far to go. On one hand, if it was off the record...

‘Fine, but we do it somewhere quieter.’ Noah looked around. ‘My apartment’s not far from here and my kids are at school. We can talk there.’

He stuck his hand out to hail a cab, climbing in when one stopped and waiting for Castle to join before giving directions. It didn’t take long for them to arrive, and with his apartment being on the first floor, they were soon inside, private from the rest of the world now.

2x replies

post open starters

bios for cash, noah & ben

‘What!?’ Max struggled not to laugh as Harrison pushed him up against the wall. It was always difficult to take situations seriously, but even more so when it was Harrison who was trying to be angry. ‘C’mon, Harry, what’s wrong? What did I do this time?’