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The Unexpected 2

  • Aug. 1st, 2009 at 12:33 AM
kstew

More Paul/Bella drabbles. :p


Sep. 6th, 2008

  • 7:22 PM
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Title: Muffins
Author: Kimiyo ([info]seras_tenshi
Wordcount: 665
Characters: Embry, Paul, and others.
Pairing(s): mild Embry/Paul, and mention of Sam/Emily, Jared/Kim.
Brief summary: Embry muses on imprinting over muffins.
Warnings: Is snark a warning?

Embry makes a gagging noise in the back of his throat as Sam kisses Emily in the sappiest way possible, similar noises from his pack members’ not eating muffins making him feel less alone in the sentiment.

Sam gives them a look that says, "I'll get you later," and kisses her again. Embry really hopes they never find out that he mimics their kisses while their eyes are closed or when their backs are turned. To be honest, he does not for the life of him understand why Sam’s imprinting is so weirdly gooey sweet and dripping with love that almost seems exaggerated.

He looks down at his three muffins on the paper plate in front of him, suddenly losing his appetite. Their little displays of affection always make him feel like his teeth have just been dipped in cold ice-cream. Why do they act like that? Is it some kind of law for imprint couples to act like they've been shot in the ass with cupid's arrow all the damn time?

Honestly, he's getting a bit tired of it (not that he'd tell Sam or Jared that to their faces, but still). Embry wonders if their imprints ever just shove them away a little bit with a,"Okay, I can take care of myself for five seconds, just chill out," and be passive agressive.

("Honey, I'm going to the store," Emily ignores the look Sam is giving her,"No I won't be killed by a vampire on the way." A scarred hand clamps over Sam's mouth to stop his protest that she should have somebody go with her just to make sure. Emily grabs her purse, slips on her shoes, then rushes out the door before Sam can say anything to stop her.

Of course he will follow her to the store in wolf form then phase back into his normal state in the woods, and wait outside sitting by the car on the ground with a pair of Paul's flower print Hawaiian shorts that she swears are radioactive.

He smiles up at her guiltily, long legs bent in front of him as she taps her foot at him.

"I'm sorry?"

The tapping only gets louder.)

He lets the thought trail off at that.

Brown eyes drift from the golden brown muffins to the boy across the table from him, stuffing his mouth with a handful of blueberry muffin at a time. He pushes the plate of muffins to the other boy with two long fingers, wondering if he'll take the hint to eat them.

Grey eyes light up at the extra three muffins, and Paul smiles at Embry for giving them to him, ignoring the looks from the table's other occupants.

Collin muffles a snicker into his chocolate milk at the looks on their faces. Lately they've been more and more frequent in glancing at each other when they think the others aren't looking; Collin also catches little fragments of their thoughts like, He's nice to me, Embry is, or, He has freckles, I never noticed before.

Jacob doesn't say anything about the wordless exchange, only bites into another muffin with a slightly suspicious look. His attention is deterred when his food starts disappearing rapidly from the plate.

Sam and Emily watch the burly teenage boys with amusement, not really noticing the not so accidental brushes of hands as Paul and Embry pluck food off each other's plates, Paul guffawing as Jacob fights Quil for a handful of french fries he'd managed to swipe when he wasn't looking.

Quil is the only one who notices the subtle exchanges between Paul and Embry, watching them playfully punch each other's arms with a flirting air.

He wonders if maybe, no it couldn’t be…

Maybe they’ve imprinted.

a/n: I swear there's a joke with Emily and Bella's hate for the radioactive flower print shorts.

 

Mmm, Pie

  • Aug. 17th, 2008 at 9:58 PM
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Title: Mmm, Pie
Fandom: Twilight
Based: Post-Eclipse
Rating: PG

That Car

  • Aug. 16th, 2008 at 11:31 PM
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Title: That Car 
Fandom: Twilight
Based: Twilight.
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, therefore Jacob, Paul, and the car.
 
A/N: Just a random piece that I hope you find amusing. :’)
 
 
Paul sits on the wobbly little stool with one hand braced against the red car Jacob is working on, trying not to show his irritation at not being able to find a better perch. The number of times he’s asked Jacob to get a new stool so he won’t bust his ass on the floor of the other boy’s tool filled haven has become countless (He stopped at twenty one), and really he just doesn’t feel like complaining about it anymore. It’s better to suck it up with some dignity than to glare at Jacob like a kid being picked last to play basketball when the other laughs at him.
 
“Hey, you almost—“Paul doesn’t get to finish his sentence as he loses his balance and falls to the floor with an ‘oof!” and a string of curses from the throbbing pain in his head where he’d banged it against the rim of one of the tires.
 
Why does this happen every time I get near his damn car? Jacob snickers at him every single freakin’ time he mentions that Jacob’s car is the devil and that Jacob is its advocate; he has to be, this many ‘coincidences’ just can’t be possible. One incident happened while he had been sitting on the hood of the car while Jacob worked under it, bare legs dangling off and swinging over the front of it. He hadn’t been a werewolf at that time, so he is quite sure he could have died when the car suddenly started up and lurched forward, causing him to fly forward, nearly swallowing the gum he was chewing and hitting a bored with a nail sticking up. Needless to say he was relieved that the nail missed his face by inches.
 
That would’ve been something to explain to his mother (“Errr, mom my eye is bleeding. A lot. I’m not sure we can fix this….I do know it’s Jacob’s fault though.” He can almost feel the blood that would’ve been running down his face right about now. Well, at least he’d know that Jacob could give him his eye later. Ha.). Honestly? This damn death trap is one of the things he’ll never let Jacob live down, just like Jacob will never let him live down the sloppily drawn tattoo of a coyote on his hip that Sam gave him on a drunken romp that he wishes he could forget.
 
Jacob has rolled out from underneath the car (who he thinks favors Jacob, stupid possessed machine) with a rag in hand, wiping the grease from one of the tools he’d used to do God-knows-what under there, and is giving him a smile that plainly says, “You’re slightly retarded, but still amusing.”
 
He resists the urge to take the monkey wrench a few inches away and throw it at him. 

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a/n: It's so hard not to poke at them.