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Entry tags:
monthly word count - may
TOTAL: 8 320
gonna have to accept that 8k is my new average, huh. sulk sulk sulk.
POSTED: nada.
IN PROGRESS:
-Mada/Tobi/Izu ABO cherry wine chapter uhh, i forget (2 544 words)
-suburban ot4 (grimmjow/nelliel/ichigo/orihime) (3 841 words)
-pack fuckening ABO (grimmjow 1 fraccion/ichigo ABO) (1 935 words)
i'm pretty happy that i managed a decent chunk of progress on each of thse fics, though, instead of forcing out a drabble's worth of edits on a dozen old things. good job, self.
--
"It's nice that you trust him so much, huh. That's gonna make it easier."
From behind the bar where Jackie is showing him how to make a mai tai, Grimmjow arches an eyebrow. Nelliel and her belly have managed to climb a barstool and she's nursing a virgin mojito, chatting casually with Boss-man and the brat. It's the first time she visits him at his job; it's a slow evening, and still early, so the whole crew drops by here and there to hang out. Also apparently celebrate his starting to train as a bartender, as if that's not yet another excuse to get sloshed on the job.
Boss-man is making his smirky asshole face. Grimmjow snorts. He can smell the verbal trap coming a mile off, but honestly that's just gonna make his reaction to Nelliel's reaction funnier--
"Of course," she replies casually, toying with her straw. "He's got a good sense for the crazy ones. I trust him to only pick up the ones that won't come back to throw a chair through the bottle racks."
Pfft. "Too bad that's taking out all the hot ones," he drawls.
"Is there a reason you can't turn off a bathroom light, Grimmjow," Nelliel replies, deadpan. Grimmjow cackles, half because of what she said and half over Ginjo's brief nonplussed look. He really thought he was gonna start some domestic disturbance shit, didn't he.
Riruka meanwhile looks torn between genuine flustered shock and laughing at Ginjo in a 'cooler than you' way.
"You joking, or you really don't mind?" Jackie asks, twisting a bottle cap back on with sure hands. "Gotta know if I should rat him out."
Nelliel glances at him. Grimmjow shrugs. He hasn't really told them much about his personal life -- just that he's got a pregnant girlfriend and they're living with another couple, but it's not like he's embarrassed. Ginjo and his crew like playing at being marginalized -- ooh, society sucks, corporate-suburbia people are sheep and not real, I'm never buying a house or wearing a tie or getting married -- but at this level, that's what it is; a game. Not a single one of them has ever had to sleep on the streets.
Well, maybe Jackie. She has the feel.
--
cherry wine
--
"What are you doing here," he rasped, and tried not to look any lower, not to rake his eyes over the simple sleeveless gi yawning open over mesh wire on bare skin.
"What do you think?" Tobirama frowned, crossed his arms over his chest. Bare, strong arms, corded with muscle. Them and his legs, they were the most solidly omega part of him, with his waist too thin to carry comfortably -- "Madara. Eyes up."
Madara breathed through his nose and immediately regretted it.
Tobirama was standing on the other end of the courtyard, with decorative bushes and flowers and moss in between. It should have cut down on his scent -- it did, some, only now it was a teasing hint.
His scent really had evolved since he got discovered as an omega, huh.
... Why was he here? Madara scowled. "It's been -- how long has it been? Not very. You're already here."
Tobirama frowned back, arms crossing a little more tightly. "I was monitoring the both of you and felt Izuna leave in a hurry."
"And you thought it was poison."
"... And I listened in on some intelligence on my way in."
Madara tilted his head slowly -- a last, forgotten hair pin tugged at the back of his head. He reached up to pull it free slowly, eyes not leaving the omega across the little garden, walled in with him. He liked that Tobirama watched him back just as closely -- as if the pin was a senbon, maybe, some kind of deadly weapon.
He didn't like that Tobirama was lying to him.
--
howling outside your door (it's pretty much all filth, so... XD)
--
He really likes Ichigo's back, doesn't he. The hakama works nicely to show off how trim his waist is compared to his--
"Eight out of ten. Passionate, tender. Loses two points for the lack of varied position."
"--Edrad what the fuck--"
"Six point five," Yylfordt counters, at his prissiest. "Failure to seal the deal. No bun in that oven. Sure it was enthusiastic but they rather missed the point of the exercise."
"Five point two! With that technique he might as well have gotten the wrong hole -- ow!"
Grimmjow picks up another rock, weighs it thoughtfully. Di Roy rubs at his mask. He's not hurt but his brain has got to have been rattled a bit.
"Shawlong, Nakeem, anything to add?" he asks, deceptively pleasant. Nakeem gives a slow blink right back.
gonna have to accept that 8k is my new average, huh. sulk sulk sulk.
POSTED: nada.
IN PROGRESS:
-Mada/Tobi/Izu ABO cherry wine chapter uhh, i forget (2 544 words)
-suburban ot4 (grimmjow/nelliel/ichigo/orihime) (3 841 words)
-pack fuckening ABO (grimmjow 1 fraccion/ichigo ABO) (1 935 words)
i'm pretty happy that i managed a decent chunk of progress on each of thse fics, though, instead of forcing out a drabble's worth of edits on a dozen old things. good job, self.
--
"It's nice that you trust him so much, huh. That's gonna make it easier."
From behind the bar where Jackie is showing him how to make a mai tai, Grimmjow arches an eyebrow. Nelliel and her belly have managed to climb a barstool and she's nursing a virgin mojito, chatting casually with Boss-man and the brat. It's the first time she visits him at his job; it's a slow evening, and still early, so the whole crew drops by here and there to hang out. Also apparently celebrate his starting to train as a bartender, as if that's not yet another excuse to get sloshed on the job.
Boss-man is making his smirky asshole face. Grimmjow snorts. He can smell the verbal trap coming a mile off, but honestly that's just gonna make his reaction to Nelliel's reaction funnier--
"Of course," she replies casually, toying with her straw. "He's got a good sense for the crazy ones. I trust him to only pick up the ones that won't come back to throw a chair through the bottle racks."
Pfft. "Too bad that's taking out all the hot ones," he drawls.
"Is there a reason you can't turn off a bathroom light, Grimmjow," Nelliel replies, deadpan. Grimmjow cackles, half because of what she said and half over Ginjo's brief nonplussed look. He really thought he was gonna start some domestic disturbance shit, didn't he.
Riruka meanwhile looks torn between genuine flustered shock and laughing at Ginjo in a 'cooler than you' way.
"You joking, or you really don't mind?" Jackie asks, twisting a bottle cap back on with sure hands. "Gotta know if I should rat him out."
Nelliel glances at him. Grimmjow shrugs. He hasn't really told them much about his personal life -- just that he's got a pregnant girlfriend and they're living with another couple, but it's not like he's embarrassed. Ginjo and his crew like playing at being marginalized -- ooh, society sucks, corporate-suburbia people are sheep and not real, I'm never buying a house or wearing a tie or getting married -- but at this level, that's what it is; a game. Not a single one of them has ever had to sleep on the streets.
Well, maybe Jackie. She has the feel.
--
cherry wine
--
"What are you doing here," he rasped, and tried not to look any lower, not to rake his eyes over the simple sleeveless gi yawning open over mesh wire on bare skin.
"What do you think?" Tobirama frowned, crossed his arms over his chest. Bare, strong arms, corded with muscle. Them and his legs, they were the most solidly omega part of him, with his waist too thin to carry comfortably -- "Madara. Eyes up."
Madara breathed through his nose and immediately regretted it.
Tobirama was standing on the other end of the courtyard, with decorative bushes and flowers and moss in between. It should have cut down on his scent -- it did, some, only now it was a teasing hint.
His scent really had evolved since he got discovered as an omega, huh.
... Why was he here? Madara scowled. "It's been -- how long has it been? Not very. You're already here."
Tobirama frowned back, arms crossing a little more tightly. "I was monitoring the both of you and felt Izuna leave in a hurry."
"And you thought it was poison."
"... And I listened in on some intelligence on my way in."
Madara tilted his head slowly -- a last, forgotten hair pin tugged at the back of his head. He reached up to pull it free slowly, eyes not leaving the omega across the little garden, walled in with him. He liked that Tobirama watched him back just as closely -- as if the pin was a senbon, maybe, some kind of deadly weapon.
He didn't like that Tobirama was lying to him.
--
howling outside your door (it's pretty much all filth, so... XD)
--
He really likes Ichigo's back, doesn't he. The hakama works nicely to show off how trim his waist is compared to his--
"Eight out of ten. Passionate, tender. Loses two points for the lack of varied position."
"--Edrad what the fuck--"
"Six point five," Yylfordt counters, at his prissiest. "Failure to seal the deal. No bun in that oven. Sure it was enthusiastic but they rather missed the point of the exercise."
"Five point two! With that technique he might as well have gotten the wrong hole -- ow!"
Grimmjow picks up another rock, weighs it thoughtfully. Di Roy rubs at his mask. He's not hurt but his brain has got to have been rattled a bit.
"Shawlong, Nakeem, anything to add?" he asks, deceptively pleasant. Nakeem gives a slow blink right back.