mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

spoiled rotten


You know you're reading too much ATF on the sly at work when you get this email:

    Coming thick and fast today! : )

and it takes you a while to realise that it's media releases they're referring to, and not all that MB slash you've been slurping up in between tasks.

24: After 23 episodes trying to hide in a virtual cone of silence I've been spoilt, spoilt, spoilt. Now I'm used to being spoilt all the time because we get our films and tv months if not years behind everybody else. I mean I knew it was a guy in the Crying Game and that Bruce Willis was a ghost before the damn films ever opened here. But enough is enough. From this day forward I resolve never to use spoiler space in revenge for this outrage committed upon me. Bastards. Death is to good for them. No, from this day forth I will spoil, spoil and spoil.

Mind you this rather ragged Now and Again slash kept popping into my head every time Senator Palmer loomed onto the screen, for some onknown reason J. Maybe I'll type it up, though it is rather dire, it was diverting my attention from the plot unfolding, though as I'd been spoiled, who really cares?

Now and Again - pic definitely nicked

I think it was all that ATF I read before people actually showed up for work at noon (party poopers). Mind you I was halfway through one last chapter and I decided to soldier on, thought I could duck off to the loo for a minute without my pc being molested. Wrong. Still, at least it was just Vin dribbling on about his eternal love for Chris and not the rather racy stuff I was skimming through earlier. Okay, so, sprung. Back to the macromedia tutorials in my downtime, now that I'm actually back to having a bit of downtime. So much for my two day revolution (hey, it's my life and I only get one and I'm sick of working 22 hours pro bono every month, especially when they've had 4 days weekends all this month and I'm still coughing like Doc Holliday).

I did bog off early yesterday though. I decided to play my guilt card, especially as, like money in the bank or rec leave, there's no point saving it up because they'll always find some way to take it away from you, so it was use it or lose it, and I used it. Besides, I wanted to get home to see Buffy because it was the very episode I thought of when watching Deep Down yesterday, the one where Wes is prepared to sacrifice Willow to save Sunnydale and it's a side of Wes that doesn't pop up again until Pylea, and I think most people forget that Wes has always been about whatever it takes to get the job done, in spite of his earlier personas.

I also wanted to be there to feed my blinded currawong before the sun set and it came down and took some bread and it had stopped bleeding badly so I was a little less upset about that. I think that it was a currawong that it happened to is what has upset me the most. You see, currawongs are very smart birds and I can talk to them using eye contact, we discuss where I'm going to throw them a scrap of meat so they can snatch it up before the naughty magpies get it. Sometimes we make a game of it. These birds have eyes that think and talk and play (which is more than I can say about most of the shambling morons on my bus) and to have that soulful eye plucked out, well, I've been upset for days. Also fed my other invalid currawongs, the baby with the broken leg and the one with the broken beak and wing. Suddenly I'm running a hospice for birds and they come to me for food, rather than slinking off to die, so I have to help them. It's like what, do I look like St Francis of Assisi? Though I guess I'm loony enough and the vows of poverty and chastity aren't a problem, being butt ugly and poor. I guess the birds, like everyone else, know a soft touch when they see one.

Ah, if you could only see my google trail today (hey, nobody's in yet but I don't wanna be caught reading or writing so I'm researching). First I was looking up sperm donation procedures. I was thinking surely it must be more scientific than wanking into a plastic cup. Apparently not. Now I'm off to see how much damage a gunshot wound to the back might inflict. Hell yeah, I'm weird, but I love it.

  • Now and Again
  • Rain of Fire caps

  • British Star Speaks Up for 'Quiet American'
  • soyouwanna donate sperm
  • Blood: The River of Life
  • Open Wounds
  • Wounds
  • Gunshot Wounds
  • Wounds
  • Patterns of Tissue Injury
  • Hypericum perforatum
  • pneumothorax
  • Types of Wounds
  • Nelson and His Navy - Surgey in the Royal Navy
  • Documenting the American South: Gunshot wounds
  • Medical Reminiscences of the Civil War
  • Penetrating Cardiac Trauma
  • Nineteenth Century Medicine in Cincinnati
  • Local shop from another era
  • HONEY, MUD, MAGGOTS AND OTHER MEDICAL MARVELS
  • Civil War Medicine
  • Some Things in Medicine Never Change
  • Cowboys Form a Health
  • The Handbook of Texas Online
  • Military Medicine (Sharpe!)
  • Bread of heaven brings out the pilgrims
    • Series: Angel

      Title: I Saw A Man Who Wasn't There

      Disclaimer: No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.

      Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. May contain m/m sexual scenes and violence.


      Wesley stood in his open doorway, his mouth in a thin line, his eyes tired and annoyed, his stance tense and guarded.

      "You can't keep coming in here everytime you want my help on something."

      "I don't want your help."

      Wesley read the look in the vampire's eyes.

      "Oh. Or that."

      "Come on, Wes, you give me another taste, after all this time, then expect me to forget about it?"

      "I was trying to save your life."

      "You destroyed my life."

      "And you'll never forgive me."

      "What can I say, vampires have memories like elephants. Hate springs eternal."

      "You've never made a mistake?"

      "You really screwed up Wes, you screwed us all up."

      "And you haven't?"

      "You didn't trust me?"

      "Did you trust me? With Darla? With any of it?"

      "You going to let me in?"

      Wesley moved aside, letting Angel push past him.

      "Here on the floor or the bed - or is that just reserved for your lawyer friend? Just what game are you playing, Wes?"

      "The only game in town, as you well know."

      Angel grabbed him, throwing him up aginst the wall, licking the long scar than ran down Wesley's throat.

      Wesley pushed him away with one hand.

      "Not there."

      "Where then?"

      "Not anywhere that will show." Wesley was most insistent about that.

      "Well, aren't we being coy."

      "You're not worried about the curse," Wesley countered.

      "Perfect happiness," Angel reminded. "I could never be perfectly happy with you. Not any more."

      His words cut deep, deeper than anything else Wesley let Angel do to him. It was never enough to make the pain go away, or make things right between them. Angel could never take enough from him to make them even. It was a hollow mockery of what they'd once meant to each other, but that's all Wesley was these days, all he had ever been: a hollow mockery.


     

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