Skeet skeet

[justformemes]

Inspired by the plurk meme: Your character is minding their own business (or maybe not), when another shoves them up against a wall. To kiss them, fuck them, or fight them. What happens next is up to you.

1. Tag with your character's name, fandom, and preferences in the subject
2. Tag out to others, don't be shy
3. Profit

Comments

[idolpire]

[That's the best way to have his hands.]



[It was late. Though, for Spike, that had become a regular occurrence a century or so ago. Darkness went from being something to hide from to being something to play in, and he took to it rather well.

He'd heard of new things out in a small little dirt berg in California. What was it about the west coast that just drew all the big nasties to it? Sunnydale and the Hellmouth. LA and Wolfram & Hart. And Beacon Hills and some funky tree that seemed to draw things that went bump in the night. Though, from what he'd heard, the werewolves out here were a far cry from the ones he'd run into. More Lon Chaney and less Howling. Either way, something non-human to play with, or bat around, was always preferred.

Which is how he came to be following a redhead who smelled like wet dog and something dead. Late and night and no one around, he wondered if she'd be able to feel that creeping sense of doom. It was always more fun when they did.]

[deathwailer]

( oh, how naiveties were truly displayed based on her countenance. a lithe, curvy girl waltzing through the woods at such an hour, fiery tresses boasting to be noticed— it's as good a prey as any, isn't it? certainly casts a certain allure, what with the forrest around her nearly shrinking, underbrush beneath her feet crackling amidst the dew from that eve's storm, thunder still rippling it's remarks overhead.

she'd began counting her paces the moment she'd heard him, as stealth— which he undoubtedly held — offered little next to clairvoyance. it isn't until she's reached a meek clearing that she pauses, fingertips reaching to score along the roughened bark of a nearby redwood, clicking her tongue with a tip of her head, as if to greet the stranger without a proper glance. )

A bit late to be stalking after a girl, isn't it?

[idolpire]

Sounds a bit like an oxymoron, since 'late' is generally the perfect time for stalking girls.

But you're not a girl, are you? Not just, anyway.

[He came out from where he'd been behind a tree, leather and black jeans blending together, the light blue of the over shirt he wore over the black t-shirt the only bit of color outside of the flash of white of his skin and the platinum of his hair.]

[deathwailer]

( a roll of eyne, turning to take him in the moment he steps aside and into the clearing with her, far more confidently sharing the space. she isn't shy of the way she picks him apart with her gaze, shifting down the entirety of his figure, tongue gliding across upper row of crowns. )   Quite an observation; a little cliche.