[vent]

[hackthis_archive]

The last day or so has been very emotionally draining on me, so you know, I AM NOT AT MY BEST.

I do not have a Dreamwidth account. I do not plan on opening one any time in the forseeable future. If there is a hackthis over there, it is not me. DO NOT ACCEPT ANY SUBSTITUTES! ;)

Also, I don't want to talk about Southland last night as the whole thing just drained the hell out of me.

We had to go through all the emotional horror AND THERE WAS NO COOPER?! The hell, people? You cannot upset the hell out of me right before I'm supposed to go to bed and THEN NOT GIVE ME ANY COOPER. I'd been waiting a whole fucking week and then you ripped my guts out, while reinforcing that:

A) REGINA KING FOR THE MOTHER FUCKING WIN
b) Her partner is a douchebag
c) Shawn Hatosy is a... what the hell is the problem there? Excuse me, what ISN'T the problem there. I do not understand why he's married to that woman. She's a nut job. I assume this is all about the sex whammy, which let me tell you, when you come out of the fog? WORST THING EVER.
d) PLEASE TO SEE 'A'
E) And what the fuck is up with Adams' partner, he's clearly a serial cheat, his wife is clearly tired of his shit. Ever heard of a divorce people? They made me miserable just looking at them

I RESENT GOING THROUGH ALL THAT AND NOT GETTING ANY COOPER. I'm just saying.



I need Cooper hugs. And Walsh hugs. And Ray-Ray hugs.

Can a girl just get a hug, already? Or something happy? Fuck. Tell me a joke. Sing me a song. Show me something amusing. I needs it. Man, do I need it.

Comments

[sparky77.livejournal.com]

"No fucking way. I did this shit once before, but there is no way I am doing it again," Ray protests. It's raining. It's not supposed to rain in Heaven, but there's rain cloud following Ray around and raining on him with what can only be described as malicious vindictiveness. The rain drops are big and cold and no matter how much he tries to burrow under Walt's wings, the drops somehow find the back of his neck and land with cruel splats. Angels are such assholes.

"But you made a friend the last time," Walt says. Ray is still hiding from the rain, so he can't see Walt's face, but he's knows he smirking. Ray tries to shake off some of the rain onto Walt. It doesn't work. Fucking angels and their fucking ability to stay dry all the time.

"That's not the point. It's the principal of the thing," Ray objects.

"You have principals?" Walt asks.

Ray would shove Walt away, but he's warm and he knows that Walt is protecting him from the worst of the rain.

"I will not be the porn director for asshole angels and their perverse kinks. I may not have principals, but I have standards."

"You stuck a 'kick me' sign on Michael's back!"

"He's an ass. And that was hard to do. Heaven doesn't have post it notes and it was hard navigating between his wings to get to his back."

"Ray!"

"What? You laughed."

"That's not justification for doing bad things." Walt protests.

"Yes it is," Ray says stubbornly.

Walt sighs. "What am I'm going to do with you?"

"I have a list," Ray says hopefully. "I showed it to Brad and he was very impressed, but said that if I ever shared any details about my kinky angel sex with him again that he would never speak to me again. And also that I bring new meaning to the phrase 'sexually deviant.' I took that as a compliment."

"Ray!"

"That's what Brad said too!" Ray grins.

"Ray," Walt says. "If you do what the nice perverted angels say and get rid of the rain cloud, I will do number 14 on your list."

"Are you bribing me to behave?" Ray says, moving out from under the protection of Walt's wing to stare at Walt with wide eyed delight. "This brings up a whole world of exciting possibilities."

"Fuck," Walt mutters under his breath.

"Do I get spanked if I'm bad? I feel like if we are going to use a reward system, we should go for the whole thing."

Walt will deny for all eternity that the small spark of lightening that came from the rain cloud and zapped Ray in the ass was his doing. He did laugh, though. A lot.

(more later, promise!)

[redheadaholic.livejournal.com]

Moar plz! :)

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

ILU.

[sparky77.livejournal.com]

"Him? Seriously?" Ray asks. "Do angels have some uniform kink that I need to know about because I don't do that shit."

"It's number 4 on your list," Walt objects.

"You are missing my point," Ray says with a loud sigh.

"You had a point?"

"Not really."

"You're stalling," Walt observes and gives Ray a little shove.

"I know. This makes all me feel used and dirty and not in the fun way."

"Just go, Ray," Walt orders.

"What kind of world do we live in when people's angel boyfriends order them to make people have sex for the amusement of other angels."

"It's all part of god's plan, I'm sure," Walt explains, sounding a little uncertain.

"God's a pervert, then."

"RAY!"

"I'm going. I'm going."

***

"Hi. So there is no tactful way to put this. And, okay, I didn't really think too hard about a tactful way of saying this... I was going to, but I was kind of pissed about having to come here and apparently I talk to much because my boyfriend got annoyed at me for bitching about all this because this is apparently my own fault and I deserve this and I said that was a very mean thing to say and see if I let you fuck me ever again. And he said that if he asked to fuck me there was no way I could hold out for more than a minute, and in fact, if he told me to pull down my pants and bend over, I'd be doing it in ten seconds flat because he had it on the greatest authority that I was the sluttiest person in the universe. And I said that compliments are all well and good, but he was still being kind of ass. And then I thought about what he said and said, 'Wait a minute. Greatest authority? You talk to god about having sex with me? That's so hot.' And then I got distracted for a while, so couldn't really think of how to be tactful, and then, honestly, I just sort of forgot about until now. The point being that you know in Sunday School when they tell you that you shouldn't masturbate because god is watching you? Well, it's sort of true."

There was silence from the front of the car which Ray thought was only understable since it wasn't everday that someone randomly appeared in the back of your car. They were probably a little startled.

"Not god, I mean. God is too busy to watch people masturbate, but angels. Angels are into some kinky shit and they like to watch."

"Sherman," the man in the driver seat said calmly. "Why is there a fucking whack job in the back of the car?"

"I locked the doors," The man in the passager seat protested. And then they both turned around to stare at Ray.

"Can you turn on the siren? I've always wanted to ride in the back of a cop car?"

(more soon :)

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

ILU. HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT? BECAUSE I DO. I'm also pretty sure I'm using up my quota of capslock for the whole next week, but whatevercakes. I just -- you sent Ray to play Whacked Out Cupid for Cooper and Ben. I mean really? REALLY?! *moons*

[sparky77.livejournal.com]

I am somewhat disturbed at how therapeutic it is for me to write Ray babble, but I'm just going to go with it.

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

I know this. I've told you this. Ray is your voice. It's like me with Ari. I know. Just go with it. Everybody's gotta get it out somehow.