#skymma

He’s perched on the Alice, the receptionist’s, desk whenever Diego walks out. The interview had been great, amazing, really, and Jack had really enjoying talking to the guy.

 The crush he had on him that was a mile wide didn’t have anything to do with how thorough his prep had been or how good at his job he was, but it sure did assist with his energy.

“Diego!” Jack chimes when Diego steps past. “Hey I heard you usually ride the bus? Public transport is great to support and all but would you like a ride to your place? Least I can do for the fact that you got up at this ungodly hour to talk to me,” he offers.

Y’know, let me buy you coffee and imagine doing things to that neck tattoo--

@skymma​ sent:  “Wait, is it a full moon tonight?” / mick @ lang

memes for the werewolves! || accepting

     He looked haggard, worn. The wolf was close to the surface. He could feel it, clawing at his skin to be let out. Lang would change before the moon rose, of that he was certain. There wasn’t much time. 

     Everything hurt. 

      “Yeah...” He managed to get out. “Big one. I gotta get somewhere...”

     Lang trailed off and looked at Mick. His brown eyes were bright with golden specks throughout--a predatory gleam. 

     “You smell... really good.” She smelled like prey. 

@skymma

It had been a long time since Aubrey had taken time to really think about Brazil. Generally it was a part of his life that he had trouble thinking about, and when he did there was quite a pit to pull himself out of. 

This time it was different though. When he and Diego realized they had something pretty specific in common it cast Brazil in a new light. Aubrey was forced to think about all of the good memories. The reasons he wanted to live there, and the good things that happened during his time. 

“You sure you’re up for this, John?” She asks it with a playful grin, and the spark of impending action already flickering in her eyes. She’s a little surprised that he’s up for this, considering that they’re both well aware of the fact that if he lets her get close enough, she can easily knock him on his ass and keep him there. But he’d also raised the valid point that even though she’s well versed in utilizing the Force in combat and has plenty of physical skills training, having to contend with magic is different. 

She’s unarmed, because it evens the field a little, because her lightsaber is a last resort anyway, and because even though at some point it’ll be worth looking into seeing if her lightsaber can do anything against magic (doubtful, but still will be useful to know) it’s safer this way. Not that Siri has any doubt in her abilities or her saber, but since there are potential unknowns in how magic and the plasma blade might react, and she doesn’t actually want to accidentally kill him (which she’d brushed off with a casual ‘if I kill you it’ll be on purpose’) it’s better to do testing of that sort in a more controlled environment. 

        blunt teeth scraped the hunters lower lip as he hid behind another tree, his fingers wrapped around the bark as he lowered himself to the ground, keeping himself low so that the other male wouldn’t spot him. normally, the job didn’t call for him being this stealthy but, this ‘job’ of sorts was different from the rest. not only was he protecting innocents but, he was also trying to protect someone that wasn’t quite human, someone that he felt that needed his help. or so, that’s what he told himself. 

       tristan kept himself low to the ground, and moved himself around to the other side of the tree, back pressed against the bark as he slowly stood up, easily blending himself in with the darkness. the male bit harder into his lower lip and carefully maneuvered himself towards the other tree, careful not to lose sight of the other male. his hand grasped for the side of the tree, fingers digging into the bark as he leaned up against it, resting there so that he could put some distance between them; otherwise he knew that he’d get caught. 

              It would’ve been too cliche, he supposes, for his life to flash before his eyes before he dies. He would’ve preferred it, though. Preferred it to the steady stream of missed opportunities, and moments, and unsaid words that flash by instead, any home of forming new ones stolen by the blood building up in his lungs. 

It’s a relief, to see John there. There, and in one fucking piece. He’s sure he can’t keep the look of his face. He’d never have taken this fall if he hadn’t thought he could at least spare John. John had a dozen loose threads, and metaphorical wounds to mend. Problems to resolve. And he deserved the time to do it. And if anyone was capable of steering the world back in the right direction – Jasper would’ve pinned his money on John. Not that he’d ever say it. 

Jasper, on the other hand – he just had one loose thread. Maybe two, if he thinks of all the things he’s never said. It doesn’t make sense to leave John with both. Saying something like ‘I love you’ on your way out, just seemed …. cruel. Unnecessary. Too absurd to leave someone with when they’d never have the chance to respond. They’d never been in the habit of sharing their feelings, not directly, at least. And he doesn’t have the air for it anyway, struggling for another breath while his fingers find John’s face. 

So he looks at him instead, swallows the regret along with the taste of copper, and musters his other regret instead. “Liv –” There’s not more to say. He’d hope it’s enough, anyway. She’ll be all that’s left of him, in a few minutes. Other than the house. His one near-mortal sin was leaving her behind. The one thing he can’t fix. Her or John.

Abandoning either of them had never been his intention. 

Sometimes, though, sacrifice was necessary. Sometimes you just couldn’t say goodbye. 

        “ -- I should’ve gone to school for budgeting ...” Fingers tap at the kitchen table for a moment as he thinks. It’s not like there’s anything off, he’d spent six hours on it last night, and all the numbers worked out. It just seemed .... too easy. Like it shouldn’t have lined up. Which could just be because he was getting better at this -- at actually managing their budget, and at bringing more donations in -- but it could just as easily have been a massive miscalculation on his part.

An influx of cash was rare, but whenever a supply run was needed, Lucan always volunteered. He could pass as human and, after growing up the way that he had, he knew how to blend in. Or, if necessary, how to fight. So with his hood up and his head down, he made his way through the supermarket, filling a basket as quickly as possible. But a young woman was blocking off the non-perishables, seemingly lost in thought, and he finally had to say, “Excuse me.”