#gen-dixon

gen-dixon replied to your post: u dick

yeh

gen-dixon replied to your post: emrysivers liked your photoset

hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng /ooc

are you okay

 emrysivers replied to your post: emrysivers liked your photoset

get out /ooc

gen-dixon replied to your link: Edgar Bones

???? WHO IS IT

out of order prompt writing 5evr wbu

—

she had her legs propped up on the crouch, bent inwards. she experimented with bending one leg over the other knee, but decided she didn’t much like it. and she was wearing a skirt.

"not that one."

"why not?"

emilia clicked her knees together and leaned her head against celia’s shoulder. “i don’t like it.”

“why not?”

she looked up at celia before replying. “it’s ugly.”

celia closed the magazine and tapped emilia on the head with it. “that’s a matter of opinion.”

"well, you did ask me for my opinion.”

she wrinkled her nose. “i’ve changed my mind.”

"i haven’t changed mine." emilia grinned, laughing in what she thought was only a slightly mocking sort of way.

"of course not," she replied, her voice muffled by emilia’s hair. they sat like this more often than not, with emilia’s head resting loosely on celia’s shoulder and celia’s lips at emilia’s temple.

neither of them spoke for a moment. emilia was trying to detect the sound of celia’s heartbeat while celia’s was content in exhaling the familiar scent of emilia’s shampoo.

suddenly, as was her fashion, emilia pulled away, instantly reaching a hand up to stroke the side of celia’s face before pulling her in for a kiss. she should have been used to it by now, but she wasn’t, and celia would always like emilia’s unexpected kisses.

the kiss was much the same as all their kisses were: long, deep, meaningful and edged with the strong emotions that they could never put into words. every kiss, at least to emilia, had to be important. it had to be urgent because it was urgent. they were urgent. they would never get to be together as often as she wanted them to be.

emilia pulled away briefly, giving them both a split second to breathe, before kissing her again, positioning herself over celia more securely. her hand had inched its way halfway up celia’s bare stomach before she heard the front door unlocking. “shit!" she bit celia’s bottom lip before straightening up and jumping from the couch. celia sat up quickly, pulling her shirt down and trying to readjust her hair.

celia was going to tell emilia to go up to her room, but she was already on her way there by the time the capulet parents and their youngest son walked in.

"hey," celia smiled at them, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless.

"celia!" her mother greeted. "what are you doing down here?"

"just…" she scanned the coffee table, quickly grabbing the magazine. "reading." she kept smiling. it was always the best defensive.

i’m jumping around because i’m exhausted and some of these are easier than others for me rn okay.

—

she kept shifting from sitting with her legs bent beneath her to lying flat down on the bed, or crossing her legs over one another with her back perfectly straight. sometimes she’d lay back and stick her legs out, pointing her toes and practising something in midair. living, breathing, being ballet.

"i don’t know," she said, on her back, kicking her legs around lazily.

"you always have an opinion."

she attempted to shrug. “you decide this time.”

he paced in front of the bed, not saying anything for a moment. “maybe that one place.”

she turned her head to see around her own legs. “‘that one place’?”

"yeah, yeah. you know. that place."

"no?"

"yes."

she sighed huffily, and she might have yelled at him, but he turned suddenly from his pacing and grabbed her legs. “vic, you know the place.”

“danny,” she whined. “let go.”

"no, no. what’s the name of that place?"

"i swear, i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about."

he lowered her legs before jumping over the back of the bed and landing in a slight crouch next to her. “the place is wherever you want to go, all right?”

"ugh, you ass," she smacked him lightly with the back of her hand. "i said you choose."

he looked at her, and she couldn’t be bothered to feel self-conscious, before lying down next to her. he ran the back of his finger along her bare arm. “let’s just stay in tonight.”

she whipped her head to the side to look at him, the annoyance practically shooting from her eyes. “why?”

"because, i…because. i. i don’t know. i just…."

"out with it, danny."

he looked at her for a long time again. she was starting to get worried now. “danny?”

"you look really nice when you’re pissed at me."

he kept talking so she couldn’t interject, though she tried.

"actually, you always look nice. not because you’re part veela. you look beautiful when you smile. and when you cry. and especially when you dance. you’re pretty when you yell, you’re even pretty when you’re kissing someone else. you always say mean things to me. but it’s kind of funny. and it’s you. everything about you is right. and i love you."

she made a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a squeal, and he had no idea whether it was a good noise or not. he didn’t even have time to start worrying before she rolled on top of him, her mouth furiously searching for his. he rested his hands on her sides, still trying to be delicate.

"oh, i love you too," she smiled against his lips.

“je t’aime, yeah?”

"your accent could use some work."

i’ve been trying to write this all day & my life is pain.

—

"you don’t need another notebook."

"i do."

"you don’t."

"how would you know?"

sammy took the notebook from waker and placed it back on the stand. “because i know you, and i know you must have at least five, two of which are most likely untouched.”

"…you’re completely wrong."

he sighed, steering them towards the history section. “we didn’t come here for that, wake. now c’mon. what was the title again?”

“the guns of august, by barbara something-or-other.”

sammy took a look at the shelves lined with books, seeing that they were ordered by author’s last name. “oh, that’s very helpful.”

waker shoved him lightly before walking past to look at the spines. “if you looked with me, that would be helpful.”

"no, i’m good."

waker grabbed sammy’s wrist and pulled him to stand beside him. “the faster we find this book, the faster we can leave.”

"are we in a hurry?"

he ran his thumb back and forth across sammy’s wrist, still searching for the book. he tried to keep a straight face as he felt sammy’s pulse speed up. “no. but i have an article that needs to be done by morning. if you’re going to be there, i know it’ll take me longer.”

"offended. i thought i was inspirational."

waker turned his head to look at him. “maybe if you weren’t so needy. you require constant attention.”

sammy quirked an eyebrow. “me?”

"yes you."

sammy tried to wrench his arm free, but waker tightened his grip and pulled him closer, running his lips along sammy’s jawline. “just help me find the damn book,” he murmured.

this time sammy managed to pull his arm loose before pushing waker away. “fine.”